New Beginnings
by gwillem
Summary: Harry is tired of living alone, since he and Ginny broke up. Ron was too much of a womanizer for Hermione' and it's been over a year since she told him to sod off. Now, it's Hermione's birthday, and Harry is tired of denying what should have happened in the first place...
1. Chapter 1

**My apologies to my readers. Somehow, during my upload, I'd completely missed Chapter 4, instead mislabelling chapters 5 and 6 as chapters 4 and 5, respectively. The issue has now been corrected, and you should be able to follow the correct sequence.**

**As I am working on both of my works, "Changes", and "New Beginnings" at the same time, it will be approximately two days between each upload for each book. Please critique, as I am only human, and do make mistakes.**

Harry Potter was hearing things. More specifically, a voice. A rather squeaky, almost annoying voice to be exact. Now, normally this would involve a rather quick trip to St. Mungo's, scrutiny by medical personnell, and perhaps quarantine. This time, no such trip was needed, as his sleep befuddled mind slowly began to wake up and to register what exactly his ears were hearing.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir!", the voice squeaked. "It is time to wake up!. Today is your Hermie's birthday!" At that, Harry's eyes snapped wide open and he immediately began to panic. He glanced at the custom alarm clock he'd had made. An even more miniature model of Dobby, the loving elf who'd given his life to save Harry's, stood on his bedside table, large eyes blinking owlishly. Harry smiled, somewhat sadly.

"Thanks Dobby. I'm awake now. Wake me same time tomorrow!", he told the animated version of the little elf. Throwing back the covers, he groaned, and sat up, muscles still protesting from the violent training he'd been undergoing lateley in his Auror training. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stumbled to his feet and made his way slowly to the lavatory. Standing somewhat unsteadily, he scraped his hand over his scruffy face, and grimaced at the image that was staring back at him.

After his last growth spurt he'd topped out at a little over one point nine metres, and his bony frame had begun to fill out with regular meals and exercise. His whipcord thin body was now covered in layers of muscle, and his shoulders had broadened out nicely. Right now every muscle hurt, and the evidence of fading bruises were apparent in several locations. Auror training was much more rigourous than it had been in years past, at Harry's suggestion, and now he was paying for it.

After graduation, he and Hermione had elected to return to Hogwarts to finish their education, rather than just accept it as a reward for their services to the wizarding world. During those months he and Hermione had bonded even more, and soon after her and Ron's burgeoning relationship had failed. Ron had taken the easy way in life, as academics were not his strong suit. He'd accepted a reserve keeper position with the Cannons, and despite their mediocre performances, with his fame drew huge crowds for the team. It helped that he'd grown even more since school, bulking up and filling out his Quidditch robes. With the fame, came the girls, and Hermione's ire. After a Howler from her, at yet another picture of Ron with an avid fangirl, he'd been told in no uncertain terms he could keep his fame, as that was exactly what he deserved. As usual, Ron had been befuddled, and didn't get the picture until Hermione refused to visit the Burrow over the Christmas break when he was off on leave from the team.

He'd tried talking to Harry, but had been surprised when his best friend had told him he was lucky that a Howler was all he got, given Hermione's talent with hexes. Ron had gulped loudly, turning a little green around the gills. "Brilliant, but scary!", he quipped, and clinked glasses with Harry. Sharing a drink of firewhisky beside the fireplace in Number 12, Grimmauld place, Harry's home, was one of the few moments the two friends had shared since school. Their lives were now far too busy and complicated to carry on as they had in years past.

All this passed through Harry's mind as he readied himself for a shower. Stepping under the steaming stream from the shower nozzle, he lowered his head, allowing the water to flatten down his normally wild hair. Relief began to ease it's way through his tired frame, and after twenty minutes or so, he was feeling more like his normal self. Refreshed, he dressed more carefully than he normally would. Black jeans, with a polo shirt Hermione had given him on his birthday just passed, accentuated his tall stature and widening shoulders. A plain black belt with a silver buckle and a set of sturdy Doc Martens completed the look. Looking at the full length mirror in the master bedroom, he smirked, satisfied with the look.

"Twinky?", he called. A small 'pop', and his newest house elf was bowing in front of him. Sighing, he resigned himself to the house elf's foibles. No matter how many times he asked, they couldn't help themselves and still bowed and scraped way too much for his liking, and most definitely Hermione's.

"Mr. Harry sir wishes his usual breakfast?", Twinky asked, curtseying in greeting.

"Actually, no Twinky. Just a light breakfast today. I'm going to be quite busy, and my stomach is a little nervous!", he told her. "Hermione's going to be here later, and...", Harry blushed, and shrugged to her.

"I understand Mr. Harry! Mr. Harry's Hermione is coming today! Yippee!", the tiny elf cheered, jumping up and down, clapping her little hands in delight.

"She's not my Hermione, Twinky!", he admonished. He didn't want his housel elves making his best friend, and maybe hopefully more, uncomfortable. Inside, despite what he was telling Twinky, a flicker of hope glimmered deep in his chest. It'd been over a year since Ron and Hermione had broken up, and she'd been too immersed in her own work at St. Mungo's to seriously date anyone, that he knew of. "Today, it's all abut her," he told Twinky. "Let's have breakfast, and then get the house set up!"

Across London, Hermione was having a panic attack. "Ok", she told herself, "it's a major panic attack." Her face was red, and she was having a hard time breathing. "I'm going to Harry's!", she squealed out loud, jumping up and down. A knock on her door interruped her glee, and she turned to see her mother poke her head around the door.

"Hermione? Are you okay?", Emma Granger asked, a concerned look on her face. Hermione was not normally an emotional person, and hearing her squeal like a teenager was not the norm.

In answer, her daughter dashed to the door and yanked it all the way open, throwing herself into her mother's arms. Sobs began to wrack her small frame, and her mother suddenly knew the issue.

"Oh, Hermione!", she said in a slightly exasperated voice, rocking her little girl. 'Young woman', she corrected herself. "I don't understand why you just don't tell him!"

Hermione snuffled, and stepped out of her mother's embrace. Red rimmed eyes almost glared at her mother. "I don't know. Maybe because he might re..re.. reject me!", she stuttered.

In response, Emma Granger began to laugh. Not a snort. Not a giggle. No. Rather a full bellied laugh that continued till she had to bend over, gasping for breath, tears running down her face. Hermione's father stopped his path to the bathroom and took in his wife and daughter with a glance.

Hermione, eyes red from crying, and his wife, laughing her respectable ass off at her. "Harry?", he asked his wife, exasperatedly. She nodded, still unable to speak. Snorting, he stepped out and continued to the bathroom, not wanting to get involved in 'that', again. He and his wife had badgered Hermione to approach Harry about her feelings, but the shy bookworm personality was still quite prevalent.

In the bedroom, Emma finally regained her composure and faced her daughter. "Young lady, sit, and listen!", she ordered. When Hermione didn't respond quite quickly enough, her mother pushed her down to sit on her bed.

Emma pulled her daughter's desk chair over, and sat, hands on knees and met her daughter's eyes. In her mind, she was trying to formulate her questions and advice in a manner Hermione's logical mind would accept. Getting an idea, she began. "Ok, dear. Why would you believe Harry would reject you?"

"Well, he's never once ever thought of me that way!", Hermione began, but was cut short by her mother's rather unladylike snort.

"As if! Are you daft, young lady?", her mother 'snorked' in response. "That young man's been pining after you for years!"

Hermione's eyebrows were in danger of threatening her hairline. Her mother, educated, professional, and a doctor of dentistry, had just 'snorked' in derision at her. 'Snorked'! "Mum, why on earth would you think that. He's never once expressed anything of the kind. Nothing!"

Emma Granger, Doctor of Dentistry, groaned and lowered her head into her hands. In her head, she saw all the 'moments', her daughter and the man who loved her had shared. Long looks of almost tragic longing, hugs that lasted too long, kisses that were more than chaste. The excitement they both couldn't contain when meeting again, after being apart for any amount of time. Casual observers could almost feel the pheremones in the air whenever they were in the same room.

After the fall of Voldemort, the Trio, as they'd become to be known, were invited to many soiree's. At McGonagagall's urging they had attended, Hermione and Harry much more reluctantly than Ron. In the wizarding world, success more often depended on political connections than ability. In that way both worlds were much alike. On many occasions Hermione had dragged her parents along, in order for them to get to know Harry a little better, and to offer an escape from the 'fans'. Mingling, both her and Nathan had observed that Harry and Hermione were loathe to be very far apart from one another. As one beautiful woman approached Harry, Hermione's face, normally happy and bubbly when in Harry's vicinity, changed. Nathan and Emma Granger gasped as their lovely, giving daughter, snarled, and made to lunge forward. Nathan had acted quickly, and grabbed his daughters arm, and shoved his half-finished glass of whiskey into her hand. Looking to where Harry was being led onto the dance floor, and to the whiskey in her hand, Hermione had gulped the whole glass down in one draught. "He's mine!", she'd whispered, and that was when her parents had looked at each other, knowing that their daughter's heart was his.

Harry, for his part, had been seen to rather abruptly, and sometimes rudely, intercept men heading in Hermione's direction, often with a gleam in their eyes. Harry often didn't say anything, just stood there until their eyes moved from Hermione's rather attractive backside to find themselves looking into a pair of brightly burning green eyes. Harry would just simply shake his head 'no', and quite often received a 'gulp' in answer. On one occasion the intended interloper had sneered, and made to brush Harry away with a motioning hand. Emma had gripped Nathan's arm, her wide eyes giving him the direction to look.

"Oh dear! That poor man!", was all he got out before there was a 'bang!'. The interloper, apparently a high-ranking ambassador, flew backwards to land rather ungracefully piled up against a pillar in the hall. He'd struggled to his feet in indignation, sputtering. His aides rushed over to his assistance, and to calm him down. The ambassador knew of Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived', but did not put two-and-two together. He was trying to barge his way back through the crowd to where Harry was now twirling Hermione around the dance floor. One aide, putting aside his own ambitions to ever getting a promotion, refused to budge and drew his employer's eye.

"Utt of my vay!", the ambassador ordered, hatred plain on his face.

"No, sir, you don't understand!", his aide was pleading. Nathan and Emma were edging closer, attempting to intervene in case they had to. Harry would eat that man alive if he had designs on 'his' Hermione. In doing so, they overheard everything.

"Vhat!", the ambassador snapped. His eyes were following Harry with murder in them.

"Sir! That's him! That's Harry Potter! Hermione Granger is his best friend. and you just attempted to 'come-on' to the one person Harry would never allow to be hurt! Sir! He'll kill you just for fun, and here, in London, no one would ever say anything! They're inseparable!"

As all this sank in, the ambassador's jaw dropped. He'd been so focused on Hermione, and the figure she cut in her evening gown, he hadn't really paid attention to the young man who'd stepped in front of him. All he'd seen was an uppity young wizard, dressed in casual clothes, completely unbefitting such an occasion as this, attempting to keep a distinguished personage such as himself from his desires.

"No!", he protested, but then saw the man's face as the couple turned on the dance floor. The long black hair, disarrayed as if he'd just stepped off a quidditch pitch, hid the telltale scar. Gone were the black, round-framed glasses. However, the piercing green eyes were a dead give-away. The ambassador also saw the sinuous grace with which Harry moved. He took note of the large, blunt fingered hands, broadening shoulders, and muscular frame. What made him really stop, however, was the way he was looking at Hermione. In his look was such love and adoration it was impossible to miss.

The ambassador, a man of known intelligence and reknown, paled. An accomplished wizard in his own right, the power radiating off Harry was now evident. As the young couple danced, Harry's magic, unrestrained as he lowered his guard around Hermione, had them almost floating over the dance floor. The tales of the battle were now widely known, and that a 'boy', had defeated Voldemort were understated. Harry's magical powers were reputed to be greater than that of even the legendary Albus Dumbledore. Combine that with the fact he'd been having yearly battles since he was eleven years old, and Harry was believed to be an unstoppable force. And that was when he wasn't pissed off.

Defeated, the ambassador made his apologies to his hosts and departed. Behind him his aides sighed in relief. If their venerated employer had pursued Miss Granger, they would now be scraping bits of him off every nearby surface, and face a mountain of paperwork on their return to their home country.

Watching him go, Nathan Granger smirked. "Our Hermione's never been safer!", he murmured to his wife.

"No Nathan", Emma disagreed. He met her eyes questioningly. "Our Hermione, is no longer just our Hermione. She's Harry's, and he's her's!", she explained. "No harm will ever befall our daughter as long as there's breath in Harry's body." They'd mingled some more the remainder of the evening, before apparrating home with Hermione, a new understanding of Harry and Hermione's feelings for one another in their hearts.

Right now though, Emma was struggling to put into words everything she and Nathan had seen, and felt, around their two favorite people.

"Have you never wondered why Harry's never dated since Ginny?", she asked her daughter.

"Well, he told me they'd just grown apart. That after the battle, when we were all recuperating, the Weasley's were mourning Fred, and they didn't have much alone time. After all the burials, came the ceremonies. The gifts. The Order of Merlin. They were never given time, and when they finally got it, they found they were two different people!", Hermione explained to her mother.

Emma was nodding in understanding. But she had also seen the way Harry looked at her daughter, and knew there was a little more to the story. Taking her daughter's hands in her's, she looked at her with all the love a mother can. "Hermione. They didn't 'connect', because his heart wasn't in it. It was somewhere else. It just took him a few years to realise it!", she informed Hermione. Hope began to dawn in her daughter's eyes.

"Your father and I have watched you two for a long time, and we've seen the way you both look at the other. Yes, you both!", she affirmed at Hermione's shocked look. "You can't take three steps without looking for Harry, and he's as bad or worse. The poor boy almost panics when you're out of his sight. And don't forget when you two fall asleep!"

Hermione blushed at the memory. Harry often visited after the battle, after Hermione had asked the Ministry's help to get her parent's back. Once their memories were restored, they had spent many hours regaling her parents of the terrors and traumas they'd endured. The only details they left out were the more gruesome bits from the last battle. Her parents always went to bed first, and left the two quietly talking or watching tv in comfortable silence. Many mornings they woke to find Harry stretched out on the sofa, Hermione snuggled in his arms.

When sitting, they often found themselves touching each other, as if they needed the other close, to reassure themselves of the other's presence. The only one's who didn't notice were Harry and Hermione. Inside, they were healing of the wounds their lives had left on them, and the comfort they gave each other could not be replaced by doctors or therapy. Even now, Hermione often found herself waking in the night in terror, reaching for Harry's body, only to remember where and when she was.

Emma watched her daughter's realization sink in. Soon, the happy Hermione was settling back into place on her countenance, and they began discussing what she should wear to her birthday party.

"I don't know mum. Don't you think that's a little too...daring?" The outfit in question was laid on the bed.

"That's the point, entirely my dear. Poor Harry won't know what hit him!", she tucked her daughter under her arm in a conspiratorial hug. "After tonight, he'll be yours!"


	2. Chapter 2

At Number 12 Grimmauld Place party preparations were moving along nicely.

At Harry's wizarding majority, the final assets of the Black family had been passed into his hands, including the creepy old house. He'd been staying with the Weasleys during the weeks before his final year at Hogwarts, but on July 31st, his seventeenth birthday, a letter from Gringotts had changed his living accomodations and life.

He'd received the house and additional title of Lord Black, and assumed ownership of the former headquarter of the Order. He'd bid the Weasleys farewell, and began the long and laborious progress of cleaning the house of its former creepiness and years of neglect. Molly Weasley had gifted him with a book of charms dealing with ordinary household duties, and with the help, albeit reluctantly, of Kreacher, the progress had been coming along nicely. Until one morning Harry had called for the aged elf and gotten no response. Harry had found that he had passed away in the night, his long years finally come to an end.

With no longer the aid of the elf, or having to deal with his protests, Harry was almost brutal in his final cleaning. Hermione had apparrated over and helped, so he wasn't alone and brooding all the time, as she put it. By the time the school year approached, they finally felt comfortable to stay nights in the place, and guests often popped in for a cuppa, to reminisce about good times.

After Kreacher had passed, Harry had refrained from garnering another house elf, until he was approached one day at Hogwarts by one of the school's servants. Apparently, as a Lord, Harry was seen by the elves to 'require' a house elf, and so they had sought him out, as there were several young elves needing a family to serve. Understanding that to turn a request down from the elves would be traumatising and insulting, Harry had reluctantly acquiesced, and now was the 'master' of two elves. He and Hermione had had a major arguement over it, but it had soon passed when she realised the importance to the elves of being able to serve Harry Potter.

The same elves, Twinky and Winky, were now busy cooking and cleaning in preparation of the evening's guests, while Master Harry was relaxing in his den, a drink in his hand, struggling to find the nerve for what he had planned.

As Hermione's bithday had approached, Harry had found himself torn as to what to do. On one hand he had wanted to plan a romantic evening alone, but for the two of them to go out was near impossible. Photographers still crept after the trio, and both Harry and Hermione found the attention smothering. So, he'd sent out invitations by his new owl, and guaged the responses. Invited were Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Ginny, and Arthur and Molly Weasley. Ron had been invited, but had declined as he was sure Hermione had still not quite forgiven him, and he was still petrified of her. Minerva McGonagall and Hagrid would also attend, as well as Hermione's parents. Of their own age, Neville, Hannah, and Luna had accepted the invitation. It would be a small gathering, but all were close friends, lowering Harry's discomfort at his goal for the evening. Wooing Hermione's heart.

The house's bell chimed, announcing the arrival of the first guest at around five-thirty, and Harry jumped to his feet, suddenly nervous. "I'll get it!", he hollered to the two elves, one who had poked her head out of the kitchen to see if Master Harry wanted help.

George, looking better than he had after the loss of his twin, stood on the stoop. "Harry!", he shouted, happily. On his arm was a buxom blond, who Harry had never seen before. Inviting them in, they were seated inside having drinks while George made the introductions. "Angelica, this is Harry. Harry, Angelica", George beamed. Unlike the loud Weasley, the girl in question seemed almost demure, but Harry caught the hint of a mischevious twinkle in her eye.

"Ah!", thought Harry, "That's why George is more like his old self!" The three were soon chatting, and as they were discussing things, Harry caught Angelica passing George some galleons surreptiously.

"What this?", he questioned. He was rewarded with a blush from Angelica.

"I'd wagered George he didn't really know you. It cost me a date, and ten galleons to be proven wrong!", she confessed. Leaning back, she winked conspiratorily at Harry, out of George's sightline. Harry chuckled to himself. The notorious prankster had just been outwitted by a woman. One who obviously had wanted to go out with him, but had to make the wiley bachelor think he'd won a wager to get her man.

The bell chimed again, and soon Harry was busy taking coats, introducing people as the guests began to flock in after the end of the workday. First were Bill and Fleur, followed by Minerva and Hagrid. Harry gracefully transfigured one of his chairs to accomodate Hagrid's bulk, to a smattering of applause. Having grown up in the muggle world, transfiguration was one subject Harry had struggled with, as often the laws of physics jumped to his mind, stimying his results. Finally, there were only three guests left to make their appearances: the Grangers.

Harry had arranged this with Hermione's parents, and he was sweating with the anticipation. Soon after, with everyone merrily chatting and catching up on each other's daily lives, the final chime announced the birthday girl's arrival. Moving to the door, Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself. Throwing open the door, his heart almost dropped to the bottom of his fashionable boots. Hermione's eyes met his, and then he was almost knocked off his feet as she threw himself into his arms. "Harry!", she exclaimed, enthusiastically kissing him on the lips. Harry found his brain shutting down as the warmth of her lips, and her smell, overpowered his senses.

A quiet "Ahem!", caused them to part, and Harry looked up over Hermione's head to see Emma and Nathan Granger smiling at him. Parting from Harry reluctantly, Hermione allowed her mother and father to embrace Harry in warm hugs. Taking their coats, Harry guestured they should continue ahead as he saw to their things. He almost walked into the wall as he noticed how tightly Hermione's dress clung to her lithe form, accentuating every curve. Shaking his head at his own clumsiness, he followed the three back to the somewhat crowded den.

A cheer greeted the birthday girl, and she ended up going from person to person, getting hugs from everyone, even the normally stern Minerva McGonagall. Everyone was soon chatting again, and Harry stood back, bemused, listening to the laughter that now graced the formerly depressing house. "This, this is now a home!", he thought to himself. His eyes found Hermione's, and felt the warmth of her smile she shot him, from where she was chatting with Neville. "Almost!", he added.

A small 'pop', announced the appearance of Twinky, and she quietly informed Harry that dinner was ready. As the kitchen or dining room couldn't accomodate everyone, it turned into a buffet, as those hungry were told to make their way to the kitchen, and the elves would serve them. Conversation faded as hunger was dealt with. Harry found himself sitting in his favorite chair, and without fail, Hermione appeared from nowhere with her plate, and seated herself on the arm. Harry was very conscious of her warm, nearly bare back and butt pressing against him, and struggled to maintain his composure. Hermione appeared oblivious, but George's knowing smirk informed Harry that the red-headed Weasley was well aware of the source of his discomfort.

Soon Harry was finished eating, but loathe to move as it seemed Hermione had sunk further and further down the arm till she was pressed firmly against him, almost pinning him in the chair. Harry was enjoying the closeness, and knowing that he was among friends eased his normal discomfort around women.

"Harry! Let me take that for you!", came a familar voice. A smirking Ginny Weasley reached out, retrieving his plate. As she sashayed away, Harry didn't even notice her rather obvious charms, a fact not lost on Hermione, who was surreptiously watching Harry out of the corner of her eye. At her mother's urging to 'stick to him like glue', she'd done just that, but had become somewhat unnerved when Harry's old girlfriend, and fangirl, had been noticed on her arrival. Steeling her reserve, she'd stuck to her plan, and was rewarded by seeing Ginny ardently kissing a boy she didn't know. They'd obviously come together, and appeared inseparable. However, Hermione was still a little unsure of Harry's feelings, and so had watched him like a hawk all evening. He hadn't even noticed the way Ginny had bent down to get his plate, giving Harry a full view of her smooth cleavage.

As she swept away with Harry's plate, Ginny had mouthed to Hermione, "He's all yours!", before she disappeared into the kitchen.

Inside, Hermione was in turmoil. Did everyone know how she felt? She'd struggled to hide her feelings for Harry for years, but it seemed the only one who hadn't noticed was Harry!

The man in question was feeling warm tingles that had nothing to do with the whiskey in his glass. As Hermione had snuggled next to him on the arm, he'd been forced to change the way he was sitting or else end up looking like he was leaning away from her. His arm had found it's way around her waist, and his glass shifted to his left hand. This had allowed Hermione to shift so she was sitting facing forward, her back now pressed against Harry's right shoulder and chest. This is how they spent the next hour, chatting with friends gathered around, till, at the appointed hour, the strains of 'Happy Birthday', came from the kitchen. The two elves, dressed in their best clothes, began the song while levitating the cake from the kitchen doorway. As they progressed, the others joined in until the house was literally shaking with the loud voices and cheers.

Hermione was shivering with delight, tingling sensations coursing through her body as the vibrations from Harry's chest transferred to her body as he sang. "My God! Even the vibrations from his voice send me into a tizzy!", she thought to herself, as the warm flush spread. To everyone's eyes, it looked as if Hermione was blushing, but knowing glances were being exchanged. It was obvious to those who knew the pair what was transpiring. "About bloody time!", went through more than one mind that evening.

After the cake, the presents began appearing. They ranged from the comical, from 'George and Angelica', with Love, raised a few eyebrows and prompted some catcalls, to the somewhat suspicious, from Hagrid. Hermione had looked askance at the gift, as it appeared to be wiggling. No one from their year had forgotten Hagrid's 'Monster Book of Monster's' text for the first year he had taught 'Care of Magical Creatures'. It had turned out to be a rather becoming stole that changed colours and positions, depending on the wearers mood. Last, but not least, came Harry's gift. The room grew quiet, as Hermione held the simple package in her hands.

Raising a questioning eyebrow in a sexy way that Harry found drove him crazy, she began opening the gift. Carefully, and slowly to drive Harry crazy as much to draw out the anticipation of what his gift was, Hermione began peeling open the wrappings. At some point during the gift opening, she'd ended up sitting in Harry's lap. As she'd wiggled her tiny bum to find a comfortable position, Harry had felt his own body respond to her manoeuverings. Hermione did nothing except turn to Harry, her eyes lowering to his face, a beautiful smile on her features. Now, she was removing the final layer of tissues to reveal a small box, the size of a paperback book. Lifting the lid, she gasped, as the contents met her eyes.

Inside was a treasure Harry had hunted high and low over the last few weeks for. He'd almost given up hope of finding it, until passing a store one day on his way home from Auror training. As was his habit now, he habitually changed his routine so as to not be predictable. It was on one day like any other that he'd spotted exactly what he wanted, and had rushed into the store just before closing to purchase it.

Hermione was speechless. Inside the box lay a beautiful ruby necklace, with matching earrings. Against her pale skin the gems would be stunning, as it appeared they were of the finest quality. "Harry!", she exclaimed, jumping from his lap. Turning, she grabbed the smiling Harry in a warm embrace, kissing him full on the lips to everyone's surprise. "Put it on for me Harry!", she whispered in his ear. Sitting back on his lap, she pulled her wavy hair to one side, and passed him the box. The gasps around the room could be heard as most had expected something of this nature. Harry, with shaky hands, fastened the necklace around her, and then sat still as she took the earrings and replaced the ones she was wearing with the matching pair.

"Harry!", her mother exclaimed at the beautiful set. "That must have cost a fortune!"

"Nothing but the best for my Hermione!", Harry said quietly, and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug. Hermione grabbed his hands and held on for dear life. "I knew how they would look on her, and also knew even if she had the funds she's too practical to splurge on something for herself", Harry explained. Hermione sank back into his embrace, glad for his comfort and presence so close to her. Minerva got up to get a closer look, and soon Hermione was up from Harry's arms allowing all the women to exclaim over the beauty of the gift and how it looked so exquisite against her alabaster skin.

The men in the room exchanged knowing looks with Harry, and all he did was shrug. "Couldn't help myself!", his expression said. And that was that.

The party went on for a little longer, before the guests began to make their excuses to leave. As the following day was a Saturday, none had to work with the possible exception of Bill or Arthur, as they both were on call, depending on the situation and emergency.

Harry approached Minerva, and cleared his throat, unsure how to ask what he wanted. Clearing his throat, he got her attention, before motioning with his head that she join him near the door. As he made his request, his old Professor, now Headmistress of Hogwarts, smiled knowingly. "Of course Harry, my dear!", she said, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Sweeping him into a warm hug, she stepped back, and approached Hermione's parents.

Harry snuck back to Hermione's side, where she was bidding goodbye to George and Angelica. Automatically their hands joined, and they turned from the door as more got up to make their way home. Within minutes, the house was empty except for Harry, Hermione, and the elves. "My parents?", Hermione asked, meeting Harry's eyes.

"Gone, with Minerva. I wanted some alone time with you!", Harry said softly. His hand reached out and caressed her throat where his gift lay. Her heart fluttered as Harry's hand gently caressed her neck, before reaching around to the back of her neck and drew her to him.

"Harry?", was all Hermione got out before Harry's lips met hers in a crushing kiss. Years of passion and pent up frustrations were evident by the way his lips met hers, and without thinking Hermione responded. Her heart wouldn't let her do anything else.

Coming up for air after what seemed ages, Hermione's eyes were clouded with desire and confusion. "I didn't know you thought of me that way, Harry. I hoped, but...", Harry cut her off with a finger on her lips.

"Now you know, Hermione Jane Granger," Harry interrupted. "I've loved you for years, but was always too caught up in events to be able to act on this", he gestured between them. "I want all of you", he whispered, stepping close.

Hermione was in heaven. All evening as she'd mingled, never allowing Harry out of her line of sight. What a dashing figure he cut, in those tailored jeans, swank polo she'd bought to accentuate the colour of his eyes, and trendy boots. His tousled hair, gold family crest ring on his finger, and shining eyes made him like a man off the cover of those romance novels she'd seen many muggle girls read.

As Hermione stared up at Harry, he couldn't help but let his eyes rove over her stunning figure. Though small busted, she still had all the right curves in the right places. Long, lithe legs, trim tummy, and a butt to die for, he'd had a hard time restraining himself from dragging her away from everyone to his bedroom.

Pulling her close, Harry felt himself harden even more as he felt her curves against him. "Harry", came Hermione's muffled voice, he face into his neck. "I love you!", she confessed, and felt tears of joy begin trickling down her face.

"I didn't get that present for you just out of friendship, Hermione", Harry replied. "It's sort of a tradition that Potter men give their betrothed a matching set of jewellery on the announcement of their intentions", he informed her. At her gasp, he felt her pushing away from him, the question in her eyes.

"Betrothed?", she breathed, her heart fluttering even faster.

In answer, he took her hand and led her over to the mantle, where there was one of the few pictures Harry had of his parents, just before their marriage. He gestured to the picture, and Hermione looked closely at it. Around Lily's neck was a necklace, and it looked..."What?", she gasped. Looking at Harry for answers, she saw he was laughing quietly.

"It's the closest I could find to the one my mother was wearing," he said.

Indeed, as far as she could tell, the necklace and earrings Lily Potter was wearing were identical to hers.

"So does this mean...?", she couldn't say it, it was too good to be true.

Harry, looking at the woman who'd been by his side since he was eleven years old, nodded, and sank down on one knee, taking her hands in his. "I, Harry James Potter, humbly ask you, Hermione Jane Granger, to be my wife. I have loved you for years, but circumstances prevented me from acting on my feelings. Now, there is nothing for me but us. I would be empty and lost, without you!", he finished. Tears were running down Hermione's face at the love she saw shining forth from Harry for her. Sobbing, she threw herself into his arms.

"Yes, yes yes!", she exclaimed, before capturing his mouth with hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Snuggled against Harry on the den's loveseat some hours later, Hermione was in bliss. She'd opted to stay the night with Harry as she often had in the past, but this time things were different, way different! They'd sent an owl to her parents so they wouldn't worry, and settled down for a cozy evening. After a couple of drinks, they both relaxed, and were enjoying the feelings and sensations of the new beginning.

Hermione was seated on the end of the loveseat, and Harry had his long frame stretched out, his head in her lap, while his feet, boots discarded, draped over the other arm. She was running her fingers through his hair lovingly, watching the beautiful smile on his face. Harry, his head just inches from her groin, felt her heat, and was struggling to keep his thoughts focused as they talked. As the clock struck the hour, Harry looked to the time, yawned, and began stirring. "Time for bed!", he yawned again. Getting to his feet, he held his hand out to Hermione. Groaning, she took it and allowed Harry to draw her to her feet.

They made their way upstairs, and finally came to the room Hermione had used previously so many times. Turning to her, Harry was surprised to see Hermione shaking her head. "No Harry!", she protested. "We've waited too long. One life together, one room together!", she insisted. Grabbing his hand, she drug him down the hall and pushed her way into the master bedroom.

She turned as Harry came in behind her, shutting the door with his foot. The spells on the room set the lights ablaze, and the fire started on its own accord to take the chill out of the air on the cool September night. The bed beckoned, and the couple were soon locked in a passionate kiss, stumbling their way to it.

Harry drew back from Hermione, breaking the kiss. He was panting with the want now pouring through his bloodstream, and his heart was pounding so loudly he would have sworn she could hear it. His gaze travelled over his friend, love, and groaned with the effect her appearance and presence had on him. Hermione's outfit consisted of a classic, form fitting dress, that hugged her lithe body, yet revealed enough to captivate the imagination. The dark colour was in stark contrast to her pale, alabaster complexion, and the new necklace was adding a rich gleam at her throat, enhanced by the flickering candlelight and flames from the fireplace. With the view he had in front of him, as well as the fact that Harry _knew _Hermione, and that for years she'd stood by him even at the risk of her own life, and that of her family, and he knew if she hadn't responded the way he expected he'd have had a long, lonely life ahead of him. He ached for her, and only her.

Hermione was burning up from the inside, and the reason being the tall, handsome young man in front of her. He had sacraficed years of his life, stepping forward to answer a challenge that was issued when he was only a little over a year old. A challenge that had taken the lives of his parents. He was so giving, so kind, and yet even with all his power and reputation, remained humble. He still kept in touch with all of the friends he'd made over the years. Favoured teachers, a half-giant, and even a simple blond waif who was often viewed as being a little on the flaky side. For each and every one of those people, Harry would have laid down his life to protect them, and that was the reason Hermione had found herself falling in love with her best friend. The icing on the cake were his good looks, infectious laugh, and a body any model would be envious of. And his eyes! "Oh My God!", she thought to herself. "When he looks at me like that, I just want to rip his clothes off and...!", her mind stopped, as images of just what she would do flickered through her mind like a movie, and she felt a dampness between her legs.

Harry interrupted her thoughts, moving his hand languidly up to cup her cheek lovingly. Hermione responded, closing her eyes, shivering inside at the sensations his touch was eliciting in her. Slowly he drew her forward, and kissed her tenderly. "Are you sure, 'Mione?", he asked, using the name he'd begun calling her back in their school years. The way his breath tickled her face caused the wetness at her womanhood to increase. His sweetness, and tenderness, was making her knees weak.

A half-growl and purr escaped from her, and her hands, resting lightly against his chest, grabbed the collar of his shirt firmly. "Potter!", she growled, "You are not getting out of my hands ever again!" A yank at his shirt that belied the strength in her thin frame drew him into her arms.

In seconds their hands were everywhere on each other. His hands trailed around and down her back, and cupped her firm behind, causing her to gasp in pleasure. Hermione, sick of the clothes that were hiding his body, allowed her hands to roam up under his shirt, carressing and feeling the taut muscles and frame she'd known was underneath that lovely exterior. As her fingers tickled his stomach, Harry's erection, already causing him great discomfort, leapt even more, causing him to groan in desire.

Harry allowed Hermione to pull his shirt off, and she took a moment to taste his body with her eyes. Wide shoulders, much more than his formerly skinny frame would have hinted at, tapererd down to a trim waist. Nicely developed pecs topped off a set of washboard abs that were definitely drool-worthy. Her hands shaking, she reached for his belt, and fumbled for a moment, till she realized there was a hidden catch in the complicated design on the buckle. His pants undone, she froze, realizing Harry was undoing the tiny buttons holding the dress around her neck.

He paused, meeting her eyes, and she smiled shyly, nodding. Trembling, his hands so sure in catching a snitch at 100 kms an hour on a broom, almost ceased working as this prize was much more precious, and delicate.

Feeling her dress undone, Hermione turned, and batted her eyes coyly at Harry over her shoulder, indicating he should undo the tiny zipper as the final barrier to her being able to remove the dress. Feeling the heat from the fire caressing her exposed skin, with the burning trail his fingers were creating as they touched her skin. Shrugging the fabric from her shoulders, she allowed the dress to fall around her slim hips, stepping out and allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in only a lacy bra and panties. A touch of brazenness emboldend Hermione, and she looked over her shoulder at Harry, her eyes, her very body, burning for him. With an almost predatory look, she smiled, and crooked a finger at Harry, and slowly swayed her way over to the bed. She turned and sat, crossing her legs primly.

Harry stood slack-jawed, as this _goddess _swayed slowly away from him, to sit on the bed, all the while a smouldering look of pure want on her face. Sitting there in naught but a tiny lace bra and panty set that only served to accentuate her womanly figure, legs crossed, one foot rocking slowly as she _dared_ him to come and get her. In a daze, Harry made his way to her, and she uncrossed her legs, opening them so he stood between hers.

Her eyes travelled up his body to meet his eyes, before they lowered, and focused on his waistband. As she lifted her hands and slowly began undoing his pants Harry threw back his head in pure pleasure, the touch of her tiny hands sending him even more over the edge. From under her eyelashes Hermione watched the effect she had on Harry, and her heart nearly burst as she realized all her doubts had been the uncertainty of a youth. Harry was hers, and with each touch, he trembled and gasped as she slowly began pushing his pants down to reveal something she'd dreamed about for years.

"Well!", she thought to herself, a small smirk gracing her lips. Unconsciously, she licked her lips as if contemplating a delicious lollypop. "Harry's damn lucky no girls had ever caught him in his boxers, or word of that would have had him fighting off girls in the street!"

Harry, lost in the sensations of her touch, was brought to reality as he felt a tugging at his waist. Looking down, he saw his pants were at his ankles, over top of his feet. Smiling at Hermione, he bent at the waist, kissing her as he stepped out of his pants, to join her on the bed. Hermione lost no time in making her wishes known. She forcefully pushed Harry back so he was stretched out on the bed, and she proceeded to pull his boxers off, revealing him in all his glory. By this time Hermione was almost panting, and her panties were slick with moisture. Turning, she beckoned Harry to undo her bra, and as he did she slipped it off her shoulders, stood, and stripped off her knickers. In seconds she'd stripped naked, and was slowly climbing her way back up the long body of her desires.

With each slow movement upwards she kissed and carressed Harry's body, relishing in all she could see, smell, and taste. His body exuded a smell that was uniquely him, and it was driving her wild. Her eyes were locked on Harry, guaging his responses as the logical part of her brain learned how to drive the man of her dreams crazy. As she was a quick learner, Harry was struggling not to embarrass himself and finish before they'd started!

As she approached Harry's manhood, he felt her hesitate, and he drew a breath, opening his eyes which had been closed in bliss. He looked down to see her examining him as she would an unknown species. Had he not know her as long as he had, and the way her mind worked, he would have felt a trifle embarrassed, and exposed the way she was examining him. He wasn't sure of her 'experience', as it had been something he didn't want to contemplate, so he just spoke, quietly. "Hermione?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes, a question in them. "You don't have to, you know...", Harry started. He was a little shocked, and amazed when she smiled cheekily at him and then saucily grasped him firmly with her hand, and licked his tip with her tongue.

Hermione was rewarded with the groan Harry couldn't stop as she explored him with her tongue. His head fell back as the unbelievable pleasure overloaded his senses. Tentatively at first, and then growing more bold, Hermione, woman of his dreams and owner of his heart, drove him wild with her inexperienced ministrations. With each touch and lick, Hermione's brain recorded the cause and effect of what she was doing to Harry, recording it for future reference. Her own body was also responding to the sounds of pleasure Harry was making. Her nipples had never been this hard, and her womanhood was slick with her juices, aching for his entrance.

Just when it seemed he couldn't take anymore Hermione stopped, and trailed her lips and tongue up the rest of his body, finishing by meeting his lips in a slow, long, lingering kiss. With her breasts pressed against him, after what she'd just done, Harry was struggling to regain his composure. He felt her lips smile, and she murmured, "Feel nice?", she asked.

Harry's eyes flew open, and he mock-glared at her. "You are so in trouble young lady!", he growled, and grabbing her, flipped her over so he was on top, pinning her to the bed with his greater size. Soon the shoe was on the other foot, as Harry used his own tongue and lips to slowly taste every inch of her body. As his tongue trailed down her neck, she moaned. When he reached the soft curve of her breasts, her breath started coming in little gasps, and when he first took her nipple in her mouth a long, slow "ohhhhh!" was Harry's reward.

By the time Harry reached the junction of her thighs, logical Hermione was gone. Instead, she was reduced to a creature of pure sensation, relishing and wanting, _needing_, his touch. Harry drank in her smell, and was bowled over at the sheer perfectness of her. With agonizing slowness he ran his tongue up her slit, just touching the small bump near the top. A squeal, and Hermione's hands were buried in his hair, fingers almost forcefully holding his head. In moments Hermione was groaning, thrusting her hips to meet his tongue as the new wealth of sensations overwhelmed her.

Having no experience with men, Hermione had had needs, but had used her own hands to satisfy herself, rather than just 'hook up' for sexual pleasure. She'd come to the conclusion long ago that if she couldn't have Harry as a lover, and hopefully a husband, then she'd rather be alone. Sadly, he was so great in so many ways that most men fell far, far short. Right now, Harry was proving that no matter what man she'd ever met, none could have made her feel this way.

She'd known Harry had dated a little, but as their closeness was greater than most married couples, knew none had lasted more than one or two dates. Of course, she'd not helped, cozying up to him, and taking him into her arms to comfort him at yet another dreadful date. His 'inexperience' didn't matter here though, as the two were so in tune, he seemed to instinctively know where to touch and caress her to give her the most pleasure.

Too soon, Hermione felt a pressure building, and with a cry, felt her release. Harry held her until the tremors stopped, and then moved up to position himself over her. As her eyes opened and met his, he lowered and took her mouth in a slow, tender kiss. Neither noticed or cared that their tastes mingled in each others mouths.

Releasing her from the kiss, Harry asked, "Are you really sure Hermione. We could wait for our wedding, if you want?" His eyes searched hers, making sure she was ok with this. After such a long time caring for her, loving he, he knew and felt that waiting even longer, though tough, would be as precious to him as this moment.

"I'm sure Harry!", she said softly. "I love you, and have loved you for so long. This is how we are meant to be together!" Reaching down with a hand, she guided him to her entrance, and with a sigh he slowly began entering her.

Harry, though inexperienced, knew to take his time. With her previous orgasm she was wet, but due to her athletic build, her entrance was tight. As he reached her hymen, he hesitated, until he felt her hands on his hips, pulling him in. A quick thrust, and she winced, feeling the shooting pain. Harry stopped moving, revelling in her the incredible sensations at being fully sheathed within her. A few seconds later Hermione opened her eyes, nodding that it was okay for him to move.

Slowly, so as not to hurt her, he began with slow thrusts that allowed her pain to diminish as the new feeling of being loved took over. Far to soon, Hermione was gasping in pleasure, and as he felt her insides squeeze him in an orgasm that seemed to take her sight, he couldn't help it and spent himself in a few more thrusts, filling her with his seed. Panting, he hovered, his weight on his arms, trying not to crush her. As he made to roll off her, she threw her arms around him, drawing him down into a deep embrace, still sheathed inside her.

Feeling his weight, Hermione was reminded that Harry was no longer the skinny boy she'd met eleven years ago, and patted his side, letting him know he was too heavy for her small frame. As he made to roll over, Harry was surprised as she threw her arms around him, loathe to have him remove his member from her. Quirking an eyebrow, he smiled, and with a quick turn flipped them over so Hermione was now straddling him. The new position surprised Hermione, as she felt his groin rub against her in new ways, and his member, impressive for his lean frame, plumbed new depths. Still a little tender, she gasped as part pain, part pleasure caused her to moan.

Thinking he'd hurt her, Harry stilled, and he began to wilt. Sensing something was wrong Hermione looked down and saw the worried expression on his face. "It's ok, Harry. Just...new, and...different. I'm not complaining", she assurred him. Feeling that he was still tense, she smiled at him and slowly began rocking her hips, similar to dance moves she'd seen on television when she was younger. It apparently worked, because Harry was soon raging hard again, growing back to his former length, and seemingly then some.

As Hermione began to rock and twist Harry thought he was going to die and go to heaven. No. Correction. Explode, die, and then go to heaven. The sensations of her riding him were incredible, and in what seemed like no time at all he felt Hermione begin to lose her rhythm as the orgasm began to take over her motor control. Seizing her hips in his large hands, Harry finished the final few strokes by helping her keep moving and was rewarded with a scream of, "Oh, oh, oh! Harry!". Hermione's insides clamped down on Harry's member and it was too much for him, and he climaxed again in perfect sync with her with a growl.

Spent, Hermione collapsed on him, and her deep breaths took several minutes to slow down. They were both drenched with sweat, and Harry thought his heart was going to burst from his chest. Hermione was in pure bliss, and kissed his sweaty chest. As her hands roamed over his chest, she felt his hands trail down her sweat drenched back. Shivering, she was rewarded by Harry thoughtfully kicking his feet around, to have him pull the covers over them both. Coming down from their passion induced high, Hermione felt Harry kiss her forehead, whispering, "I love you 'Mione!". Sleep soon overtook them both.

Neither saw or heard the small feet that stopped outside the bedroom door. Quietly it was pushed open, and two little heads peaked in. Seeing the clothes strewn about, a gesture was made and the rumpled clothing levitated out the door. As it shut silently, two quiet giggles could be heard.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione awoke, feeling slightly disoriented. A tiny headache plagued her, a result of one too many glasses of whiskey the night before. Seeing the ceiling of an unfamiliar room, her sleep befuddled mind struggled to formulate everything, until an ache from between her thighs brought her to full awareness of what had occurred the night before.

"Oh!", she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in bed, clasping the covers to her chest. Beside her the bed was empty, but the smell of Harry, and sex, permeated the room. Blushing to her core, she recalled the way she'd almost insisted on Harry ravishing her. Their lovmaking had been wonderful, everything she'd dreamt it would be. Hearing the door, she turned, to see a robed, and still damp Harry come in, a breakfast tray in his hands.

"Good morning, beautiful!", he greeted. Striding over to the bed, he bent down, kissing her full on the lips. His clean smell hit her, and Hermione felt a stirring in her loins. Along with another, familiar urge.

"I need a robe, Harry!", Hermione informed him. He chuckled, and shrugged out of his robe, to reveal silk pajama bottoms. He was bare chested, and she had to restrain herself from throwing herself at him again. Grabbing the proffered garmet, she jumped out of bed, scurring down the hall to the washroom. A few minutes later, her bodily functions taken care of, she returned to find Harry reclining on the bed, munching on some bacon.

Scrunching herself up beside him, Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder, and began helping herself to the food laid out on the tray, presumably by the house elves. As they ate in companionable silence, every so often their hands would lovingly reach for the other. Gentle carresses were interspersed with breakfast, just as anyone would expect of a couple comfortable with each other, and deeply in love.

Their bodies needs taken care of, Hermione excused herself to have a shower, while Harry took the tray back to the kitchen. The house elves would have taken care of it had he left it in the room, but Harry didn't treat them like slaves. More as regular help, and as such the bond they shared was deeper than enjoyed by most other house elves.

In the kitchen, he entered to see Twinky and Winky giggling. Quite sure of what the subject they had been discussing was, he mockingly stood and pretended to glare at the two, only serving to make them giggle louder. Twinky, the first elf he'd bonded, regained a little of her composure, and approached her master.

"Master Harry sir! We have new clothing for Master Harry's Hermione!", she informed him.

A house elves responsibilities were many. Firstly, the Master's wishes, but as importantly, were the household duties. Unlike regular help, a house elf worked much longer hours, as their constitution was actually much hardier than their physical builds would lead one to believe. And their magic was so different than a human's, it was harder to understand. Harry was sure Hermione could figure it out, but as most magic users didn't care, none but a few had looked into it.

Elves could perform wandless magic without really seeming to have to work at it. A snap of the fingers, and clothing was removed from every room in a house to be laundered. The same could be said for everything from dusting to preparing food. One house elf could easily look after a family of eight, as well as carry important messages not to be trusted to owl or floo, and their loyalty was sacrosanct. A house elf, once bonded, could not be made to speak, no matter what was done to it.

So it was with no surprise that Harry saw Twinky bring a suitcase forward to him with a snap of her fingers. He'd looked at her, and she simply informed him, "Twinky knew Mistress Hermione would want different clothes, so she went to her old home and brought back an assortment of clothes she'd seen Mistress Hermione wear for her Harry!"

A little surprised, but not really at the elf's resourcefullness, as well as how thoughtful she was, Harry took the suitcase, thanking Twinky. Still not used to being thanked for what she considered her duty, Twinky's eyes filled with tears, and she gleefully clapped her hands, before dashing back to her work

Making his way upstairs, Harry was smiling to himself as he entered the master bedroom to find Hermione sitting on the bed, reading. Seeing the look on his face, she noticed something was different.

"What's up?", she asked, and scooted over on the bed, indicating Harry should sit beside her. As he sat, she snuggled into him, and noticed what he was carrying. "That's my suitcase!", she exclaimed. Jumping out of the bed, she grabbed it, and flipped the case open to see what was inside.

An intellectual, Hermione had many traits, but being particularly neat about her laundry was not one of them. Inside the suitcase, she saw an assortment of socks, underwear, jeans, shirts, and a jacket all neatly and precisely folded. "What?", she asked in confusion, looking to Harry, to see him chuckling.

"Apparently", he explained, "You are now 'Mistress Hermione', and Twinky went and got some outfits that she'd seen you wear before, from your 'old' house!"

Almost sputtering in indignation, Hermione couldn't help herself as she saw Harry struggling to keep from laughing out loud. As usual, his happiness and merriment was contagious, and they were soon both giggling at the revelations.

"You're the boss now", Harry said. Reaching out he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap, where she immediately snuggled in, turning and placing a rather sensuous kiss on his neck. "You are now the 'Mistress' of the house, Miss Granger, and this is now your home!"

"Well, not quite...!", Hermione disagreed. Feeling Harry stiffen, she quickly added, "There's the matter of a...wedding!", she blurted out, before she lost her nerve.

She felt, rather than heard, his laughter. Trying to turn in his arms to look into his eyes, she was surprised when his arm tightened around her. Hearing some noises, a drawer opening, and then some stuff being moved around she struggled, but Harry maintained his hold on her. She was sitting, fuming at her small body and her inability to get him to move when something came into view, held in Harry's hand.

A small, black velvet box was in his hand. A little larger than a typical engagement ring box, she just stared, stunned, when he placed it in her lap.

"Go ahead, open it!", he urged, his breath tickling her neck.

With shaking hands she took it, and upon opening it's lid, gasped.

Inside was a set of three rings, centremost being an traditional engagement ring, with a ruby set between two diamonds, to match the set Harry had given her the night before. There were also two matching wedding bands, embossed with an emblem. Picking the large one up, a man's ring, she examined it and found it to be the coat of arms for the Potters.

Peeking over her shoulder, Harry reached for the engagement ring, and plucking it from the box placed it on her now still left hand. It gleamed in the morning light with a dazzling radiance, and he gently took her hand in his. Gently, he moved her from his lap, and positioned himself so they were facing each other.

"I wasn't sure if the necklace would be entirely to your liking, so I had this made to match", he gently informed her, stroking her hand with his thumb. "I don't know when you want to get married, but as far as I'm concerned, we've been inseparable for years. This is just a formality, but the sooner the better!"

Hermione just looked between the face of the man she loved more than life, to the ring, and back to his face. "Oh, Harry! I'd marry you tomorrow, if we could manage it!", throwing herself into his arms. Grasping his face between her two hands, she proceeded to kiss him senseless.

Things were getting quite intense, before logical Hermione kicked in. She suddenly thrust Harry from her, driving him back against the pillows. "We've got stuff to do mister! My parents to inform, and a wedding to plan. We also have to get the rest of my stuff moved here, as I can't be wearing the same things to work every day!" She proceeded to roll off him, and started rummaging in her suitcase, talking to herself and Harry at the same time.

Harry, used to her mannerisms, just chuckled, even though his body was slightly frustrated. Rolling off the other side of the bed, as he didn't quite trust himself as she was bent over looking for the items of clothes she wished to wear, he wandered over to his wardrobe and began rifling through, deciding what to wear. In seconds, Hermione was beside him, in naught by bra and panties, and with a quick look picked out a shirt and pants for him. Stuffing them into his hands, she returned to her own dressing. In minutes, they were dressed, muggle fashion.

"Your parents?", Harry questioned, knowing her as he did.

A nod, and they made their way downstairs.

With a shout they'd be back for dinner, but not lunch, they left Grimmauld Place. Harry had modified the wards so he could apparate out while the house was still cloaked, and with a 'snap' they were standing in front of Hermione's parents home.

The Granger's were up, even being the weekend, and with cries of joy and well wishes, they received the news. They chatted for a bit over a cup of coffee, but then insisted they had to leave to inform their other close friends. "We'll be back tomorrow Mum", Hermione said, hugging her mother. "Lots to plan!" With a wave, they were gone.

They first went to Luna's, as she was very close dear friends with Harry and always kept in close touch with him. She greeted them with a small smile, that let them know she'd had another of her 'visions'. After telling her what she'd already presumed, they followed with visits to the Burrow, and then Hogwarts.

Headmistress McGonagall raised an eyebrow as Hogwarts wasn't supposed to be able to allow people to apparate onto it's grounds. After the news, which she greeted with a knowing smile and hugs, she shot Harry a look that they'd be having a 'discussion' about his ability to apparate to the school.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon visiting a few shops in London, to check out some things Hermione wished to have at the wedding ceremony. When the subject of the dress came up, she merely informed Harry, "That's going to be a surprise, for you!" Soon, the sun was setting and they were back at Grimmauld.

Twinky and Winky pulled out all the stops, and prepared a lovely evening meal that they hardly had time to enjoy. As soon as they'd finished dinner, the sound of the floo going off signalled the first of many 'calls' to congratulate the two. Apparently Molly had spread the word in her family, and there were enough of them to talk to that it seemed like no time had passed when the clock chimed ten. Making their excuses to George and Angelica, the last two to call, they headed for bed. Tired as they were, the sense of the other's naked body next to them soon had them wrapped around each other in passionate lovemaking.

The next day dawned bright, and after a quick breakfast, Hermione drug Harry back to her parents to where the real planning would take place.

After coffee with the Grangers, Hermione and her mother proved to be very similar, sitting down in the living room with notebooks and pencils, prepared to plan every detail to the nth degree.

Much discussion arose over where the ceremony should take place, with Hermione opting for a muggle location, with Harry opposing her. "I don't think that's the safest, as we both know the people of our world aren't that familiar with the muggle one. Some photographer or fan will mess up, and cause all kinds of complications. At least, if we choose a somewhere magic is regularly used, we can set adequate safeguards to have only those we wish to be present", he'd argued. His logic was actually infallable, and Hermione had to begrudgingly agree. Eventually, they settled on either the Burrow, or Hogwarts. Godrics Hollow was also considered, but Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it together near where his parents died such a tragic death.

From there, it went on to decide dress, whether muggle or wizardly, and then to table settings, and on and on. Harry was trying not to roll his eyes in exasperation as Hermione and her mother discussed the trim on the napkins, when he caught her father's eye. The older man was tipping his head in the direction of the kitchen, and they two excused themselves. The two women were so deep in discussion, they barely noticed the two men depart.

Keeping an eye on the door to the living room, Nathan Granger beckoned to Harry, drawing him over to the corner of the kitchen where he kept his liquor. Quietly pulling a couple of glasses from the cupboard, he poured them each a daught of his finest whiskey. Raising his glass to Harry, he acknowledged, "It's a little early, but I thought we'd have a man-to-man, while the girls are busy." They clinked glasses, each then taking a sip. The scotch went down smoothly, and Harry nodded in appreciation. Seating themselves at the kitchen table, Harry met the eyes of Hermione's father.

"I know you quite well Harry", he started, "and I have to say I have never felt better about my little girl getting married." He looked at his glass, swirling the liquid around as he contemplated his next words. Taking another sip, he sighed, then continued. "You've been taking care of Hermione since she was eleven years old", he said, meeting Harry's eyes again. "And it's hard to admit, but you've done an even better job than I could have, given the differences in our worlds!" Harry was taken aback by these words, and made to speak, but was silenced by a waving hand.

"Harry, she's never been the kind of girl to sit on the sidelines. She needs someone like you to watch out for her, and it also helps that we've suspected she's loved you for a long, long time!", he finished, a wry smile on his face. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small piece of paper, and passed it to Harry.

Harry recognized it as a piece of parchment, the kind they'd used at Hogwarts for their lessons. On one side, he saw in his own handwriting, from either his first or second year, judging by the childish scrawl. 'Hermione', it read, 'just what does McGonagall mean by that?' It was obviously in reference to some question he'd had about a particular lesson they'd been in years ago. Flipping the paper over, he was surprised to see, in Hermione's elegant long hand, 'Hermione loves Harry', followed by a signature, 'Hermione Jane Granger-Potter'. It was all surrounded by a red heart, that was still pulsing slightly with the charm the young witch had placed on it.

Hearing footsteps, Harry turned to meet Hermione face to face, as she grasped his head in her hands, and kissed him full on the mouth. The kiss went on until an 'ahem?', interrupted, and they parted, blushing. Hermione plucked the paper from Harry's fingers, and tucked it down her front, out of his reach, at least in front of her parents. Plunking herself in his lap, she took Harry's glass from his fingers, sniffed, then took a sip.

Shuddering at the taste of the scotch, she smiled at her father. "Getting Harry drunk to find out all his secrets Daddy?", she asked impishly, smirking.

Caught, her father laughed, and the discussion went from the two love birds wedding plans, to more mundane things. How close Harry was to completing his Auror training, and Hermione's position as Healer in Training. Unlike muggle med schools, the wizarding world used an apprenticeship program, feeling a hands-on approach imprinted more accurately upon a person's memory.

The day flew by, and the elder Granger's were happy to host their daughter and future son-in-law. Lunch was an easy affair, simple sandwiches, and some rather elaborate shopping plans. Through it all Harry smiled, more than he ever had in his life, thanks to the gift of love now granted him by his longest friend and now lover, her heart. The afternoon flew by, and since everyone had to work the following day, it was agreed Hermione and her mother would plan the shopping for the following weekend, whilst Harry would be kept entertained by his future father-in-law. Plans made, the young couple waved goodbye, and with a 'whoosh', were back at Grimmauld Place.

Winky and Twinky happily served them dinner, and with the ease of long familiarity, Harry and Hermione were soon ensconsed in the den, each reading books respective to their fields of study. This time, instead of adolescent angst and the pressure from peers keeping them apart, Harry reclined in the corner of a loveseat, while Hermione rested her head on the other end, draping her legs over Harry's lower body in perfect comfort.

As time passed, Harry's 'quest' now behind him, a nagging thought that had been plaguing him for some time began knocking on the inside of his head, demanding to be heard.

"'Mione?", he queried softly. Often, when engrossed in studying, she would hardly ever hear anyone. He was surprised when she lowered the book from in front of her face and raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. Inside Harry shuddered. He'd found that look so sexy for so long, he had to take a deep breath and concentrate. As Hermione gazed at him, he saw her face change from intellectual to something he could only describe as a 'come hither' look. Shuddering at the pleasure he derived from that look, he focused, "Hermione!", he warned, and got a mock pout in reply.

"Yes dear?", she smiled, and coyly batted her eyelashes at him.

Shaking his head in amusement, he steered back on to his thoughts, and what he saw as a huge dilemma.

"It's been, what, four years since Voldemort?", he asked, and got a small nod in response. Hermione's face lost some of it's happiness, remembering those final, dark days. Continuing, he asked, "Do you really feel that the wizarding world is really...changing?" His brow furrowed, as he struggled to communicate his thoughts and worries.

In their school days they had often bounced ideas off each other, searching for solutions, and they quickly fell into their old routine. Hermione's brow furrowed in thought, and her head slowly began to shake, "No", she said slowly. "It's better, but the old laws and ways are still quite firm. No interaction between muggles and magicals. Muggleborns are still treated as 'second-class', and that's just a couple of examples."

Harry was nodding, his gaze now fixed at her, yet his eyes almost unfocused as he looked at the problem, turning it this way and that in his mind. Hermione watched, as always amazed at her lover and fiance, as he pieced together tiny bits of a larger puzzle, to see things most others missed. "It's like they're just reverting. HE's gone, and so things are going back to the way they were before he made his first move. Arranged marriages, ruling class, the works."

Lowering his gaze, he focused on Hermione, his green eyes meeting hers in a way that made her breathless with desire. Pushing those thoughts away, "Focus!", she admonished herself. "Time for that later!" Harry was being serious, and he needed her, once again.

"How many wizards and witches are there, 'Mione?"

She ran the numbers through her head. Working at the hospital, she was privy to those numbers. "Thirty-seven thousand, three hundred roughly, in all of Great Britain. Approximately sixty percent women."

"And how many are muggleborn?", he asked intently. If anything his eyes gleamed even more brilliantly.

"About thirty percent of of all born are of muggle descent. Ten percent are for sure from strictly muggle parentage, like myself." Hermione rattled off the facts, proving once again her brilliance.

Harry ran the numbers through his mind, comparing it with facts he'd been researching on his own. "So, that's far less than even one percent of the total population," he stated. "Our numbers are declining?", he asked, receiving a nod as an answer.

"Any idea how many lost to the wars?", he probed, picking her brain. Her face scrunched up in concentration, she hesitantly answered.

"No one knows for sure, but the closest guesses are roughly two thousand or so...," she trailed off. Shock dawned on her face, as the numbers hit her. In a period of about twenty years, the wizarding world had lost almost ten percent of it's total population.

She quickly began tallying what she knew, and Harry, knowing Hermione as he did, let her begin drawing the same conclusions he'd come to. "We're dying out!", she exclaimed, the impact of the conclusion shaking her to her very core. Having been introduced to this world through the happenstance of birth, the lonely young girl in her qualied at this. She'd found her true love in this world. Never could she have imagined the happiness she now had. If the magical folk died out, there were possibly other lonely children like herself who would never find their 'mate', as she had, and this saddened her as few other things could.

Looking to Harry, she saw he'd been studying her. "We need to have more children," he stated. "All of us." At the gleam in her eye, at the least the prospect of 'making' the children, he chuckled, feeling the same stirrings in himself. Holding a hand to forestall Hermione from jumping him then and there, he explained further. "I've been doing some research, and found that most of the magical folk have very small families, often only one or perhaps two children. Molly and Arthur being the exception," he added as an afterthought. How, he had yet to figure, as the matron of the family seemed quite prudish, but, then she was young, once.

"I think that a geneaology of all magical folk needs to be compiled, to analyze bloodlines. Right down to DNA analysis, blood type, the lot!"

"But Harry, they've never figured out why or where the 'gift' originates!" she protested. Seeing Harry's face, she saw the smirk she'd loved for years. The same one when he'd figured out all the traps he'd been drawn into over his adventures. "You've figured it out!", she shouted, ecstatic. With an almost acrobatic agility, she was on Harry in the blink of an eye, snogging him senseless.

As Hermione had been drawn down Harry's thought process, she'd been at first shocked, and almost whimpering inside at the implications. Now, her love, her heart, had figured out the biggest puzzle of the wizarding world. How the talent was passed through the genepool. He'd not only be famous, again, but would be seen as perhaps the most prestigious master of magic since Merlin.

Drawing back for a breath, both of their laboured breathing indicated how aroused her kissing him had made them both.

"How?", was all she asked in wonderment. In her mind, she was already picturing the looks on her mentor's faces when she told them of her future husbands discovery.

"Good old muggle schooling!", he chuckled. He indicated the books scattered on the table in front of them. Hermione scanned the titles, seeing only a range of muggle and magical books on human anatomy and biology.

"It's a recessive gene, similar to my eyes, or Weasley red hair. A close examination of my own blood, and some I, ah, 'procured'," he held up his hands in protest, as he saw the look he was getting, "revealed that the muggles assumed our 'junk' DNA was just that. Junk. I asked a lab to run some tests, and I think I've found it. It wasn't easy, and it still needs to be confirmed, and that's where you come in. You need to take my findings to the head of St. Mungo's, and arrange a meeting. We need to explain how modern 'muggle' medicine can isolate the genes, and then get some masters on creating an isolationist spell to reveal those genes magically. That done, we can then begin rebuilding our community and population," he finished, a little smugly.

"It might take years, Harry, but do you think it'll work?", Hermione asked, eyes searching his face.

He nodded, a faint smile on his face. "I've done some field tests, and it seems very promising, but I'm not good enough at 'scripting' new spells to target the gene. I've only had about a twenty percent success rate."

Hermione curled against Harry, her mind lost in contemplation. If this was correct, and Harry wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't have at least some proof, then the world could be as it was back in Merlin's time, when almost ten percent of the world's population were magical. Every village and hamlet had had at least one magical family or practitioner, and some more so. It had kept the evils of the world at bay. Diseases could be cured with potions, and the wave of a wand. Tyrannical dictators could be brought to task by a team of Aurors, who could apparate past security blockades, and portkey the bastards directly into prisons or holding cells.

Hermione lost herself in her love, and threw herself on Harry. In no time they were both so fevered with lust, Harry simply apparated them to his, 'their', bedroom and spent the night in bliss.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day saw Hermione off to work as usual; her quest to find a way to get the head of the magical hospital into a private meeting. She felt her status as one of the Trio, Harry's long-time companion, and her own up-and-coming star as a brilliant healer would give her access.

Harry, with only a few more weeks of training under his belt would be ready to graduate to full Auror status. He'd pushed himself hard, and was being rewarded by graduating over six months early. Unlike muggle police, who took only a one or two year training program before being accepted as a junior officer, Auror's trained for a minimum of three years before being allowed in the field. Not only were there classes on law, the structure of the wizarding court system, and other mundane tasks, but the advanced levels of spellwork required to subdue and detain suspects. There were a whole host of spells not covered in Hogwarts, and for the most part kept from the knowledge of the wizarding public.

There were memory charms, such as the 'obliviate' charm he'd learned from Gilderoy Lockhart, but that was just the beginning. He'd had to master Occlumency, protection of the mind from invasion, as well as higher-level 'notice-me-not' spells. Some of those could fool you into just forgetting what the person looked like, all the way to making you see anyone from the girl who served you coffee in the morning to your boss. These were easier spells to manage, rather than transfiguration or disguising spells as they relied on the viewers own memory. They saw you, but not your actual face. From there they went on to shielding spells. Then shielding charms. Then they were taught the difference from spells and charms, right down to how they 'bonded', either to the caster or his target. NEWT's be damned; this was doubly hard, moreso because of the pressure Harry put himself under to prove himself. He wasn't just 'The Boy Who Lived'. He was a talented, and powerful wizard in his own right, and was going to prove it. With a drive and determination that was almost scary he threw himself into his studies, meaning to excel or die trying.

That same wizard was now on his way to work via the same random route he'd been following for years. His destination was obvious, but anyone trying to follow him would have been hard pressed to keep up. As a muggle-raised, Harry had the advantage of being very knowledgable in public transportation use. As well, Hermione and he had both sought out her parents with help in getting their drivers licenses. Neither of them owned a vehicle yet, since apparition was faster and almost undetectable, but a vehicle allowed the driver an anonymous way to blend in with commuters. Their only beef was London traffic which was always congested.

Finally arriving at his destination, Harry made the way to the Auror's department to meet with his department head. He was going to push for an increase in his training, as he was anxious to finish and get on with his life. Not expecting any troubles, he was surprised when his suggestion was stonewalled.

"Sorry, Harry", Kingsley told him, shaking his head. "There is no way we can increase it. You're already months ahead of anyone else. I'd let you, but the final weeks are critical. There are several things you'll need to learn for your final exams for clearance as a full Auror."

Harry, though disappointed, was used to having to fight for everything and so agreed. Then, he dropped the bombshell abut his and Hermione's relationship, and their plans to get married. Kingsley, surprised, immediately thought of the ramifications. Publicity, threats, counter-proposals from families seeking to attach themselves to the Potter and Black's family names. Together, they discussed their options and began planning a controlled way of releasing the information. Harry and Kingsley knew Hermione wouldn't be entirely happy with the plans, but being who he and she were, they options were limited.

From the Head's office, Harry went further into the Ministry to return to his training, a little disappointed but resigned. He knew the training was critical, as he'd been one of the ones to push for better training for the Auror's, as a direct result of the disaster that had happened on Voldemort's return to power. Now, with the plans he and Kingsley had formulated, he and Hermione could take the next step and begin planning for their wedding.

Several hours later he exited the Ministry, exhausted but elated to share his plans with Hermione. Her hours were longer than his, but they both had planned to cut back where they could until their wedding plans were finalized, as well as the revelations to the public. All this was going through his mind as he did the final apparition to Grimmauld Place, and habitually he performed the final visual and magical sweep before entering the property. Entering, he was greeted by Twinky.

Informing the little elf that they'd wait until 'Mistress Hermione' was home, he retired to the den to relax, before picking up his work from the night before. He had to finalize his notes, theories, and research material so Hermione could take it to her superiors. After he'd had everything somewhat organized, he settled back with some old spell books he'd found in the library at Grimmauld.

That was where Hermione found him an hour and a half later, nose buried in a book. He was so engrossed he didn't notice her standing there watching him.

Hermione watched as the love of her life read on, totally engrossed in his studies. Gone was the lackadaisal student who'd rather play quidditch. Instead, here was a man grown, who'd grown fond of books and learning, things that meant so much to her it melted her heart to see the man she loved doing it as well. Harry's piercing green eyes scrolled back and forth across the pages in front of him, intently analyzing his books. Occasionally he'd stop and take a sip of tea, or make notes. Intending to surprise him, she crept up behind him silently, she was just leaning forward to kiss his cheek when he whirled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulled her over the back of the loveseat.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!", he shouted, laughing.

With a surprised squeak of startlement, Hermione gave in laughing as Harry pinned her down and began tickling her. It ended a few moments later when she finally managed to capture his lips with hers, rendering him helpless with her kisses. Breathless, they broke it off a few moments later.

"Potter! You're incorrigible!", she chastised gently. Harry pulled her onto her lap, his heart still pounding from the feelings racing through his body.

She reached over him, and grabbed his cup of tea. Taking a sip, she grimaced, finding it cold. About to call for one of the elves, they were both surprised when 'pop', Winky appeared. Smiling, she grabbed the tea tray and was gone in an instant. Seconds later, she reappeared with a fresh tray and cups. Harry and Hermione stopped her, a thought running through both their minds.

"Winky?", Harry began. The elf paused, looking at her master questioningly.

"How did you know to bring fresh tea?", Hermione asked. From her experience, the elves were lightning fast in serving their masters, but only them. And she'd never heard of one answering a non-verbal summons, let alone a thought.

Winky paused, looking between Harry and Hermione, her ears drooping, thinking she'd done something wrong. "Does Miss Hermione not want tea?", she asked, hesitantly, her bottom lip quivering.

Quickly Hermione got off of Harry, and dropped to her knees and took the little elf in an embrace. Holding her at arms length, she told her, "Not that Winky. But...how did you know? And...you're Harry's, not mine." Hermione didn't like to use the possesive words when it came to sentient beings, but that was how the elves viewed themselves. Long gone were her SPEW days.

Winky brightened, and looked between Hermione and Harry again. "I's, I's, sensing it Missy Hermione!", she informed her, proudly. "It's the bonding!"

Harry sat forward, having not heard this before. "Bonding?", he questioned her. "Like in our bond?", he gestured between Winky and himself. The little elf, blushed, and looked down, her little foot swinging back and forth in embarassment.

"No, Master," she said shyly. "The mate bond. The one between you and Miss Hermione!", she finished.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, mouths wide open in astonishment. "Mate bond?", they chorused in unison. Winky, sensing their confusion, elaborated.

"Master Harry and Missy Hermione is becoming bonded!", she informed them happily. "Is what happens when powerful wizard and powerful witch is very, very happy together! Soon, Winky and Twinky will be bonded even to Missy Hermione!"

"Don't we have to be married for that?", Harry asked, curiously.

Missy was shaking her head even before he finished. "Married helps, but the bonding is special. Yes, very, very special. Is what happens when two souls is meant to be together. Missy is so HAPPY!", she shrieked. "Master Harry and Missy Hermione is first bonded wizard and witch in long, long time!" With a pop, she was gone, apparently to get their dinner ready, leaving a very befuddled Harry and Hermione staring at each other.

Harry just stared at Hermione, an incredulous look on his face. "Harry?", Hermione asked, reaching for his hand.

He took it, and turned to stare at her. "Is nothing every normal in my life?", he asked plaintively. Hermione couldn't help herself, and ended up giggling at the look on his face.

"Add that to the list of things to look up!", she informed him, rising to her feet. They were sitting their taking their tea when a little bell rang, announcing dinner. Hand in hand they went to the kitchen, and had a nice, light meal.

They were back in the library an hour later, looking for books on bonding. As the library was something Harry used only for research relating specifically to his work, he had no idea of the types of volumes the library contained. Frustrated at the lack of organization, Hermione began summoning books by subject, piling them in separate bunches on the floor. Once she had a section cleared, they began the task of laboriously alphabetizing the library by subject matter, irregardless of the author.

It was nearing eleven pm before they had begun to make any headway, and had finally found a book on the subject. Deciding to head for bed, they both climbed the stairs weary, sweaty, and dusty from the chore. Hermione hit the shower first, with Harry following. They'd decided if they showered together they'd never get to bed on time. Harry emerged after his turn, with just a towel wrapped around his narrow waist to find Hermione burrowed under the covers. On her raised knees was the leather, bound book, and her eyes were scanning the pages rapidly.

"Find anything?", Harry asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hermione flipped the covers back, and he climbed in beside her, delighted to find she'd foregone any bedclothes. Before he could get any ideas, she shoved the book in front of his face, her finger pointing at a paragraph.

Reading the section, Harry looked at her, gulped, and said to her, "Oh, boy!" Hermione, nodded in agreement. She took the book back, and with a wave of her hand the lights were extinguished. With the information on their minds, pleasure was foregone for the evening. Instead, they simply curled against one another and let sleep overcome them.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry, dressed in his finest suit, briefcase held loosely in his left hand, stood on the sidewalk outside St. Mungo's waiting for Hermione to come and get him. It'd taken two weeks for the best of the magical world's medical professionals to be summoned from around the world for this meeting. Hermione had taken his findings to her superiors, and as they examined the findings they'd been astounded at missing something of this importance. The magical community contained many well educated and dedicated people, but few were of 'muggle' parentage. As such, they were only vaguely aware of things like centrifuges, electron microscopes, and other modern, 'muggle', medical advances. A quick meeting was held, and a quiet summit planned.

Now, he was about to walk directly into the mouth of the beast, and proove he was not just 'The Saviour', but also a methodical, thoughtful, intellectual. Seeing 'Mione, as he thought of her, waving at him from the door, Harry entered the doors of the hospital, and was whisked to the main floor board room.

As he entered, Hermione's hand clasped in his own, Harry was shocked at the number of people in the room. St. Mungo's functioned a lot like muggle hospitals, with the difference that the Board of Directors were actually the senior med-wizards and healers. Murmurs of surprise came from those seated, as Harry and Hermione were ushered to seats near the head of the table. Seating themselves at the table, they were surprised when the room quickly fell silent.

"Mr. Potter, so glad of you to visit our establishment", welcomed the man at the head of the table. Harry had seen him several years before, as he'd come personally to the site of the battle at Hogwarts to attend to those most greviously injured. Introductions were made around. Harry was introducted to people from around the world, shockingly though, were those coming as far away as Australia.

Introductions made, Harry popped open his enhanced briefcase, and began pulling file after file out, and passed them around. He also brought an old fashioned slide projector, enchanted to work without electricity, and set up an impromptu screen. He stood, and at a nod from the head med wizard, began the pitch as he and Hermione had rehearsed. A few eyebrows were raised, especially when Harry began the slides showing the work being done in specialized blood labs. At the end, there was a pause, and then one by one the people present stood and began a slow applause that had him blushing. Hermione gripped his hand in excitement. Seeing her 'man' changing their world was enthralling, and he had no idea how lucky he was going to get that evening, in the privacy of their home!

As the foreign medical professionals were separating into groups to figure out a way to collaborate to further his findings, Harry and Hermione stood hand in hand, trying to get the attention of the med wizard. Seeing that the pair were hanging back to speak privately, he broke off his conversation with a dark skinned man, wearing African robes and made his way over to the two. "Can we speak privately, sir?", Harry asked.

Since he'd entered the field of med-wizardry, Albert Wilfred Dunnings had excelled in his field, both academically and practically, climbing within the top tier of medical professionals before he'd even reached thirty years of age. Now, approaching fifty, he was a tall, confident wizard, with a commanding presence. Able to perform the most complex of spells required for delicate healing procedures and curse removals, he seldom had to do any more work on patients, unless it was a very critical case. Now, most of his days were spent managing the hospital, procuring funding, ensuring 'priviledged' clientele received the best treatment, and rubbing elbows with societies upper class. Unfortunately for him, he now had not one, but two of the most influential people in wizarding Britain, if not the world seeking a private word. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but given Harry Potter's reputation for trouble following him, he'd reserve his judgement.

He ushered the pair down a long hall, and led them into a luxurious office, with enchanted windows showing a spectacular vista of a country meadow, horses galloping in the background. Beckoning them to be seated, he made his way around the desk, doing his best to hide his anxiety.

"So, how can I help you?", he started, looking from Harry to Hermione. He knew the witch beside Harry, as she was one of the best up and comers in his staff, likely to supplant him in the future. "Your work was spectacular ", he flattered Harry. "I've no idea how that was missed!" As with all magically raised wizards, he was largely unaware of muggle medicine, but was too much of a medical professional to discount what could be the best medical discovery since wolfsbane.

Harry looked at Hermione, and coming to a silent agreement, she began to speak for them. " , Harry and I have a little, ah, situation we need your advice on," Hermione began. The doctor swivelled his look to her, curiousity on his face.

Taking a deep breath, she jumped in with both feet. "What do you know about...bonding?", she finished in a rush.

Dr. Dunnings sat back, schooling his features not to show his surprise. He had to tread cautiously here, as it was a rare, wonderful, yet dangerous thing she was inquiring about, and with the history of the two in front of him, he had to tread cautiously. Sitting back in his chair he steepled his fingers together, looking at the pair over the tops of them, reminiscent of a beloved former Headmaster. "It's old, old magic", he started slowly, "with roots going back to Merlin's time. Very, very rare!" He looked from Harry to Hermione, and picked up on the closeness, and the way their hands seemed to want to be drawn together. "You two, ah...are...?", he finished, unable to ask the question.

"Together, as a couple, yes," Harry answered, "but only for about two weeks now. Our...'my' house elves had begun acting oddly, and we asked them about it. It seems they can sense it." Harry had the doctor pinned with his brilliant gaze. However, Dunnings had been running the hospital for almost ten years now, and could hold his own.

Dr. Dunnings smiled, much to their relief, and sat forward, resting his elbows on his desk, chuckling. "Of all the people in my lifetime who would have ever brought something of this to me, it had to be you two!" Harry and Hermione couldn't help themselves, and joined the Doctor in his amused chuckle. They'd felt the same way.

"I'll have to do some research here, in the archives, to give you a better idea of what might be happening. If you are comfortable working with me, Miss Granger, perhaps you would be willing to forego your studies for a while and assist me?", Dr. Dunnings asked. Hermione's reputation as an avid bookworm was well known, and to his relief, she agreed. Archival research was not really up his alley, and with her help he'd be able to assist the famous pair, perhaps placing himself in their good books. With a few more arrangements, the plan was made for Hermione to meet the Doctor in the morning, rather than her normal, scheduled work. From there, he'd show her the archives, and leave her to her own devices. Bidding him farewell, Harry and Hermione left the hospital, and made their way to the nearby shopping district, stopping at a pub to have lunch.

Having been raised muggle, the two often used this avenue to escape fans of well-wishers. It gave them a sense of privacy they only enjoyed when safely ensconsed in Grimmauld Place, and though Harry had done wonders with the old home, they had none of the freedom they'd enjoyed at Hogwarts, with it's expansive grounds. Harry, sensing the relief Hermione felt when they entered the pub, brought up that very subject.

"Have you ever given thought to where you'd like to live?", he asked, taking a sip of his pint. Hermione chewed slowly, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Not really", she began. "I'd only ever dreamed of being able to get together with you. I'd seen us in a country home, hopefully with children?", she trailed off, examining Harry's face from under lowered eyelids, guaging his reaction to the statement. She knew Harry had wanted a family, but she didn't ever really entertain the thought for herself, having resigned being alone until the surprise that Harry loved her, at her birthday. Now, she desperately wanted to see how he reacted to what she'd said.

Much to her relief, Harry's grin lit up his face, and he reached across the small table, taking her free hand in his. "I'd love nothing more than to see you as the mother of 'our' children", he said softly, as to not be overheard. Even in muggle London, they had to be careful of what they said, and where. They hadn't even officially announced their engagement, and didn't want the word of a planned family to get out too soon. "Maybe we should go to Gringott's, and see what the bank has to say?", he asked, and was happy at her nod. They quickly finished their lunch, checked the time, and decided they had time to get to the bank that afternoon.

Outside, they quickly scanned the crowds, and discreetly found an alley that would allow them to apparate directly to Diagon Alley. With a near silent 'pop', they were gone.

Harry took the lead, and led Hermione through the banks doors, heading for the nearest teller to avoid any 'fans' that might have seen them appear in front of the bank. He didn't recognize the goblin he stepped in front of, but was surprised when, after a quick once over, was told, "Please Mr. Potter, wait here for one moment!" He then hopped off his seat, and scurried into the back as fast as his short legs would allow. In moments he was back, followed by a much more elderly goblin.

"Mr. Harry Potter!", he greeted them coordially, for a goblin. "Please, follow me!", he pointed. They were directed past the line of tellers, to a hallway that led to a series of offices and meeting rooms. He ushered them inside a small meeting room, and motioned for them to seat themselves. He disappeared out the door, and they heard the snarling language of the goblins for a moment, before the old goblin reappeared, shutting the door behind them as he went and sat across from the couple.

In moments, a younger goblin appeared, bearing a tray with tea, scones, and an assortment of small cakes. He gestured for them to help themselves, before getting down to business. From somewhere on his side of the table he brought forth a rather large ledger. "Mr. Potter, I am a Senior Account Manager at Gringott's. Allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Dragonclaw. I presume, Mr. Potter, that you are here to discuss your accounts?", he queried, patting the ledger before him.

"Yes. I'm wondering if I could afford to purchase a small property out of town, somewhere we could use magic without drawing undue attention to ourselves", Harry began, but stopped when he saw the puzzled look on the goblin's face. "I'm sorry", Harry apologized. "Do I not have enough money?" He was surprised when the distinguished goblin, snorted, then outright laughed.

"Mr. Potter. Surely you have some idea of your wealth, and net worth?" he asked, then sat back in astonishment as Harry shook his head.

Harry glanced at Hermione, puzzled. "No. I mean, I knew I had some left from my parents, but that's about it, other than the ownership of Grimmauld Place. I was kind of, ah, distracted when I signed all the papers on my wizarding majority," he finished. He reached for Hermione's hand, somewhat nervous. He'd sell Grimmauld Place if he had to, but since it had been one of the last things he associated with Sirius, he'd become attached to the old house, especially since he'd gone to the effort to make it his own.

Dragonclaw looked from Harry to Hermione, and raised an eyebrow. "She's my fiance," Harry told him, in explanation. "Anything you say to me, you can say in front of Hermione."

"Very well," the old goblin began, flipping open the large book in front of him. "I'll begin, since my 'predecessor' wasn't inclined to fulfill his duties." The disdain was obvious in his voice. Harry got the impression that if his 'predecessor' was still employed at the bank, he was in for a demotion in the very near future.

Once he'd found the page he was looking for, Dragonclaw turned the book around and showed Harry a column titled "Net Assets-Total". Harry skimmed to the line, and over his shoulder Hermione's gasp matched the sudden queasy feeling in his stomach. Apparently, the Blacks were a stingy, old family, and since their family had almost died out, not much of their money had been spent in the last twenty years, since Sirius's brother had been killed. The figure in front of him stated that he had apparently over seven million galleons at his disposal. Looking at Dragonclaw, Harry saw the small smirk on the goblin's face.

"Surprised, Mr. Potter?", he asked. "I take it you had no idea of how wealthy you are?" Harry shook his head, and sat back, suddenly shaken. He lived meagerly, and hadn't been to his parent's vault in over six months. Winky and Twinky were able to purchase groceries simply by being bonded to him. As his house elves, the bill was sent directly to Gringott's from the grocer's, and the account managers paid it, along with any other bills he acquired in the wizarding world. He simply had few needs, and his stiped as an Auror in training was more than enough to support himself, Hermione, and the house.

Hermione, sensing Harry's discomfort, squeezed his hand, and looked at him to see if he wanted her to speak for them. He nodded, and she turned to Dragonclaw, a puzzled look on her face. "The assets, are they all cash?" she questioned hesitantly. "Are there any properties, similar to what we want?"

Dragonclaw had already pulled the ledger back to himself, and was quickly flipping through the pages, searching. Finding what he wanted, he withdrew a small pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket, placed them on his long nose, and began perusing, muttering to himself. "It would appear there are several properties that might suit your needs, but you are aware that you still have ownership of the house and property at Godric's Hollow?", he asked, looking at the young couple over his glasses.

"I, ah, forgot", Harry admitted. "I'm not sure I'd like to live where my parents died, though", he added, looking to Hermione for confirmation. She nodded. It had taken Harry so long to get out of the rut of depression and sadness she didn't want anything to ever bother her beloved again. They would make a new home, together, and raise their children in a home of light and happiness, with no gloomy reminders of the past.

"If you'll allow me Mr. Potter, I can take over all of your accounts, including those left you by your parents, and have a total accounting by the end of the week, if you'd like?", offered Dragonclaw. Relieved he wouldn't have to go down and sit in the vault like a demented hobbit, counting his gold, Harry jumped at the offer. Goblins were notoriously honorable, especially with their clients. He said as much to Dragonclaw, and was surprised as the elderly goblin thanked him for his flattery, and bowed, leading them from the bank. He assurred he'd have them owled no later than Friday, and they could meet on Saturday if it was convenient. As Hermione would be with her mother shopping in London, it seemed like a good idea, and Hermione agreed.

Before leaving, Harry had a thought, and turned to Dragonclaw at the last minute. "Could you draw up some papers, allowing Hermione access to my accounts, as well as a will and testament for us? We want to cover any contingencies." At the goblin's nod, the couple left, and apparated home.

Entering, Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, turning him to face her. "Will and Testament?", she asked, raising an eyebrow. She didn't question Harry about the account, because she knew how stubborn he was , and there was no point in arguing about the money. As soon as they were married, wizarding law gave her full access as there was no negotiated marriage contract stating otherwise.

Harry, sensing her underlaying distress, took her face in his hands and kissed her lovingly. "I just want you to be taken care of in case anything bad ever happens," he said gently. "I'd want you and our children to have everything I didn't. There's no way I'm leaving anything to chance, after what happened with the Dursleys'."

Hermione, satisfied with his answer, took him by the hand and they went in to relax for the evening.

After dinner, they returned to the task of organizing the library. Several hours later, they headed to bed, exhausted, but happy. They were almost half done, and should be finished before the weekend, when they could get back to taking care of their future.

Despite being tired, the young couple found their passion couldn't be put off by mundane things such as thoughts of banking, finding a home, or even the puzzle of the bond growing between them. Too many years they'd denied what had been growing between them, and with the exuberance of young love completely wrecked the bed that evening, finding pleasure in each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok folks. This would have been longer, but it seemed to conclude fairly nicely where it ended up.**

The next three days the couple fell into a routine that came easy with long familiarity. They got up, shared a breakfast, and then went their separate ways. Occasionally at lunch, if she remembered to stop her perusal of the archives, Hermione would floo-call Harry to see how his training was going. He was still coming home with bruises and scrapes. Normally, if he had had the time before he would have had the on-call med wizard attend them, but he found the more gentle ministrations of his love much more enjoyable. They'd chat for a few minutes, then head back to their work, each refreshed and rejuvenated from the call. They didn't expect to hear from the bank until Friday, but were hopeful something would pop up. Due to their fame, looking for a house could be problematic, unless they relied strictly on a real-estate agent. If nothing appeared in the paperwork at the bank, they agreed that would be the next, obvious choice. If they had to, they could enlist Hermione's parents to do the preliminary work, and just check out any places they short listed.

By the time Friday rolled around they were both anxious, and Hermione told Harry that she was going to kip out early. "It's not like we really need the money, do we?", Harry had joked. He knew money was not the driving motivation for his fiance to become a healer. She'd learned, after years of association with him, and dealing with the war, how critical skills such as that were necessary. Also, with her talent for complex charms and spells, the field came naturally to her. Another year, and she'd be able to work full on her own.

Arriving home that evening, Harry was pleased there was a note from the bank, stating that all the paperwork was ready, and he could stop by in the morning. Hermione had to be present for the papers granting her access to the account, and some other legal paperwork, so they agreed they would have supper, relax for an hour, then head over to her parent's house for the evening. From there, all four could head to Diagon Alley, and then separate as Hermione and her mother went shopping, while Harry kept her father company the remainder of the day.

Two hours later they were sitting in the living room at Hermione's parent's place, and told them the slight change in plans for the next day. That done, they spent the remainder of the evening playing board games, and laughing at tales her parents had of recaltricent children they'd had to deal with over the years. Too soon they had to call it a night, as the next day proposed to be a long one. Hermione and her mother had a selection of bridal shops they wanted to visit, and Nathan suggested Harry try a muggle man's shop for his suit for the wedding. "So, I guess we're getting married muggle?", Harry asked, redundantly.

Emma Granger just looked at him, then at Hermione. He turned and saw the excitement in her face, looking through a selection of bridal magazines. His heart just about melted at the expression of love she gave him as she looked up, meeting his eyes. "Definitely!", he stated, to no one in particular. He'd known Hermione had suffered from self-esteem issues for most of her life, and he hadn't fared any better. As children, they'd met, become fast friends, and spent the next ten years supporting each other. Yes, it hadn't been all sunshine and roses, but there was no one and no thing that could come between them. The feelings they had for each other delved to a depth of friendship few ever experience, and it had grown into a love so strong he could not bear to deny her anything that brought her joy. She, of all the women he could have ended up with: Ginny, Daphne, Susan, Hannah, Luna; Hermione Jane Granger deserved her princess wedding. He was only too glad it was himself that would be her prince.

With that thought in mind they headed off to bed. Entering her old bedroom, now stripped of almost all of her belongings, thanks to the elves, was a little surreal for Harry. It was the first time he'd ever been in a girl's bedroom, and for some reason, even though they'd slept together for the last two weeks, he was suddenly nervous. Turning to him, Hermione took him in her arms, and knew immediately something was wrong. "Harry?", she asked. "What's going on in that noggin of yours?", she reached up and lovingly brushed his longer hair out of his eyes. He met her eyes and shrugged.

"It's just that...you know?", he gestured, at a lost for words. She looked at him puzzled, turned, took in her room, and then it dawned on her.

Hermione couldn't help herself, and giggled. She knew exactly what was wrong. "Oh, Harry!", she said, laughing again. "It's your first time ever in a girl's room, isn't it?" Turning to him, she saw the look of chagrined embarrassment on his face. He could face down a dark wizard, virtually walking to his own demise, but faced with sleeping with a girl in her own room at 'her' parents home, and he froze, like a deer in the headlights of a car.

Taking his hand in hers, she walked him over to her double bed, and sat him down. Positioning herself so that she was straddling him, she proceeded to show him he had nothing to fear, or be embarrassed about their love. Seconds after her lips captured his, she felt him respond, his hands rising naturally to grasp her at her waist. Ever so slowly his hands began caressing her in that gentle way that drove her crazy. Minutes later, out of breath, she drew back to see him smiling at her. "Thank you for rescuing me from myself, again", he said. Leaning forward he initiated their next kiss, and it wasn't long before their hands began removing each other's clothes. Before they got carried away, Harry paused, threw a wandless locking charm on the door, and placed the room under a muffling charm. Noticing her bed frame wasn't as heavy as the old fashioned one at Grimmauld, he also performed a sticking charm to keep the bed from bouncing on the floor. That done, they spent the next several hours proving their love for each other.

Harry woke a little groggy the next day. Reaching for Hermione he noticed the bed was empty beside him, and momentarily panicked, old memories resurfacing. He sat up, reaching for his wand, only to remember at the last minute where he was. Hermione found him with his head in his hands a few minutes later, and seeing he was distressed rushed to him immediately, still wrapped in her robe fresh from the shower. Harry buried his head in her midriff, his arms locking themselves around her as if he was never going to let her go. She recognized the panic attack for what it was, having gone through many of them herself after the war. She soothed him the same way she always had, running her hands through his hair lovingly, humming softly under her breath. His breathing slowed, and his arms began relaxing their grip. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and raised his head to meet her descending lips. After a soft, gentle, loving kiss, she drew back, searching his eyes for the demons she knew still plagued him. All she saw though, was a deep, abiding love.

"Thank you!", he whispered, forcing himself to his feet. They held each other for a minute more until he stepped back, running his hand through his hair, a rueful look on his face. "You'd think those memories would be all gone, by now. I don't know where I'd be now, if it wasn't for you." The huskiness in his voice made her knees weak with desire. Instead of doing what her body was now telling her to do, she just reached up and held his face with her hand.

"I feel the same way, Harry. I love you!" He relaxed into her hand, closing his eyes at her touch. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes, and smiled, only a ghost of old pain present.

"Guess I'd better shower, especially after last night!", he tried to joke, attempting to change the mood. Hermione coloured, a blush spreading from her face until her whole body was thrumming. The things that man could do to her, and make her body do were absolutely sinful. Reaching around her, he patted her behind. Realizing if he didn't head for the bathroom and shower they'd be late, he grabbed the towel she'd brought in for him, and made haste to get cleaned up. After the feelings she had brought forth if he didn't get to the shower the whole day would be shot.

Downstairs, Hermione and her parents heard the shower running, and Nathan and Emma looked at their daughter. She had inherited her intelligence honestly, and they didn't need to be told something was wrong.

"Honey?", Nathan asked, reaching for Hermione's hand. He hadn't called her that in years, and normally only when she was sick. Seeing the stress lines in her forehead, they could sense something was up. At her fathers touch, Hermione couldn't keep it together any more. Upstairs she'd had to keep her emotions restrained for Harry, sensing how close he was to a breaking point, but now she sobbed, throwing herself in her fathers arms. Having gone through this before, Nathan and Emma knew what to do, and just simply held her, letting the tears flow.

After the last battle, and the months of being on the run, they'd come out of an obliviate charm to have their daughter run into their arms, sobbing. Over the following months her troubles had poured out of her heart. How many nights she and Harry had gone to bed, scared, not even sure they'd wake the next day. Harry had been there, many, many times, and held her, strong support for her, and now she needed it again, but for a different reason. "It's...it's, Ha...ha...arry! He..he had some sort of flashback!", she sobbed, grief stricken. Nathan and Emma looked at each other, a little shocked. Harry had very seldom broken down, and when he did, it was always very restrained. They'd never guessed that he hadn't shaken all of the demons from his past, and it was now tearing their daughter's heart apart, because of her love for him.

As the sound of the shower stopped, Hermione seemed to pull herself together, her tears slowing, and the snuffling drying up. She pulled out of her parent's embrace, to grab the tissue Emma handed her, wiping her eyes. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, she excused herself and dashed to the downstairs powder room, splashing water on her face to help remove the redness from her eyes and nose. In the kitchen Emma ran over to Harry, concern on her face. Seeing her approaching, arms spread, Harry stepped into the offered hug. Never before in his life had Harry ever been grateful for the unconditional love and acceptance he found with the Granger family.

"Are you ok, Harry?", she asked, stepping back, her hands holding his upper arms. Due to his height she had to look up into his eyes, but all she saw there was a kind of tiredness, rather than the blank, almost empty look he'd had just after the end of the war.

He smiled, then, and it lit up his eyes, and she knew even though there might be the occasional night or day like this, he was doing very well, and at his nod, knew he was ready for the next stage in his life. Hermione came around the corner then, and seeing Harry with her mother, she met his eyes, seeing the smile, and with a choked cry, ran to him. Nathan and Emma witnessed yet again the depth of the love their daughter and Harry had for each other, and it's ability to heal, as the couple stood there locked in an embrace, completely oblivious to them. Emma returned to her husband, to be wrapped in his arms. Nathan felt his wife tremble, and inside he was a little choked up as well. He loved his wife, and their life together, and the daughter they had raised with everything in his heart. Yet, for once in his life, he had no words as he stood witness to the unconditional love on display before him.

They stood that way for some minutes before Hermione calmed down enough to raise her tear streaked face to Harry's, meeting his lips. His hands caressed her face, thumbs brushing away the tears, as he apologized. "I'm sorry", he said softly. "For scaring you, I'm so, so sorry. I'm okay, I'm okay," he kept repeating. "As long as I have your love, I'm okay!"

The reassuring words soothed Hermione's worry, and soon she regained some of her composure. Brushing her hands across her face, she took a deep breath, and the last of the tremors stilled. "Damn you, Potter!", she cursed softly, her smile belying her words. "You scared me half to death!" Chuckling remorsefully, Harry drew her in his arms again, planting kisses on her head, softly. Looking at his future parent's-in-law over her head, he saw how emotional everyone had become.

"It's okay!", he smiled, his soft words carrying to them. "I'm okay. Just a little bit of the past catching up with me, is all!" At that, Emma drew herself from her husband's arms, and hurried to the kitchen to make some strong coffee. After that she knew everyone would need something a little more bracing than a cup of tea.


	8. Chapter 8

It was an hour later, and several cups of strong, black coffee before Harry was ready to face the world. All three Grangers watched him surreptiously, ensuring he was okay. Hermione's parents were very protective of their daughter, despite all of her amazing abilities, and as they knew and felt Harry was a perfect man for her, the feelings naturally encompassed him as well. He'd tried to get up after one cup, but Emma had simply put her hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down, and refilled his cup. He wasn't going anywhere until she was sure he was fully back to his old self. Once he was fully composed, which she confirmed by her taking his face into her hands and staring directly into his eyes. Satisfied the pain was gone, she gave her motherly approval and they were on their way.

Having been to Gringotts before to exchange currency to pay for Hermione's schooling at Hogwarts, they were moderately composed entering the goblin run facility. The creatures had intimidated them at first, until Hermione informed them that they were like that with _everyone_, not just muggles. They took their money handling seriously. So, their steps were a little lighter as they were ushered into a private conference room to go over the paperwork.

Dragonclaw wasted no time, barely sparing a glance after being introduced to Hermione's parents. He simply nodded, as his assistant rushed off to get two more cups for tea. Once he was ensure his clients and their guests were all comfortable, he pulled forth two ledgers.

"So, a final accounting has been performed, Mr. Potter, and I trust you'll find the results satisfactory", he almost smirked. Being the perverse creatures they were, they took a strange delight in putting people off their guard. None but themselves knew how much the money handling satisfied them, and the wealth they created for clientele they performed these services for. "Shall we start with your parents, the Potter, accounts?" He didn't wait, but simply pulled his glasses out, and once satisfied they wouldn't tip off the end of his extraordinarily long nose, began flipping through the first ledger.

"From your mother, Lily Evans, who placed her accounts with us as a subsidiary to the Potter accounts, we have as an accounting, the following:

Two residential domiciles. First, her childhood home. Standard three-storey, six thousand, two hundred and thirty square feet in size. It has six bedrooms, four bath's, and an atrium. Also included in the property is a detached four car garage, and a separate guest cottage, at an additional one thousand, four hundred square feet, with an included two car garage. Said property sits on twelve point five hectares, and is located in Wales. It has some modifications to allow the use of magic, and is recorded with the Ministry of Magic. It is also connected with the floo-network, but has been defunct since your parents death's. Presumably removed due to inactivity, as your maternal grandparents were non-magic users. Said property is valued at one million, seven hundred thousand pounds, at current market values in Wales, as of five pm, yesterday!" He looked up to be met by four pairs of very large eyes staring at him. Ignoring this, as he'd suspected this reaction, he continued.

"The second residence was a vacation property, on the coast of Scotland, not too far from Hogwarts. It is a two-thousand, five hundred square foot home with detached two car garage. It has four bedrooms, two full baths, and a master ensuite. As Scotland is experiencing a residential recession, the property is currently estimated at only seven hundred and sixty-five thousand pounds, as it only has three point five hectares of property. It does have the added benefit of a nearby forest preserve, which has prevented a more drastic decline in the value."

Hearing nothing but silence, he looked up, and couldn't help smirking. He was only getting started!

"Currently, both residences are being rented, to two separate families under long-term leases. We were instructed to ensure very low turnover in renters, and thusly have managed to garner a steady rental income from both. Annual rental on both properties is roughly ninety thousand pounds annually. After costs, that leaves you with roughly fifty thousand pounds net annual income.

"Additionally, there is the matter of the estate assets, at the time of your grandparents deaths", Dragonclaw paused, looking up, apologetically.

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, as I'm sure this is the first you're hearing of this", he met Harry's eyes, and saw that Harry had regained his composure, but deep in his eyes he saw the sadness. "I can assure you, Mr. Potter, that your grandparents did not fall victim to the war that claimed your parent's lives. Your grandfather passed, as far as we know, from cancer shortly after your mother completed school, before you were born. Your grandmother contracted pneumonia, and succumbed to the illness in a muggle hospital. As your mother and father were caught up in the war, by the time your mother was informed, it was too late. Her lungs, which had been damaged from smoking, a socially acceptable habit when she was younger, had been compromised, and she passed from respiratory failure." He stopped, seeing the pain in Harry's eyes, deepen.

"I know this Mr. Potter, because I was the young goblin banker who helped your mother deal with the estate, and properties, at their passing. As your parents were satisfied with my efforts, they requested I look after their monetary matters, and that of their son's." Harry, still shaken from the morning's events, simply nodded his thanks, and motioned for Dragonclaw to continue. Hermione had one of Harry's hands clasped in hers, and Emma, his other in support.

Dragonclaw swallowed, pushing his own feelings down. Family was a very important thing to goblins, ranking ahead of even money, and honour.

"At the time of your grandparent's deaths, there were numerous assets on the property that were removed, some placed here in the section of the vault reserved for Lily Potter, and others in one of _our _storage facilities. Included in the offsite storage are three automobiles. I'm sorry, but there appears to be no type here, but I do seem to recall as one being a Triumph, which was your grandmother's."

"Now, here in your mother's section of the family vault, are numerous paintings, miscellaneous jewellery, and some rare, collectible first edition books. Current value is unknown. Also, as your grandparents were fairly wealthy, there was a substantial life insurance policy. Since your mother had no intentions of returning to live as a muggle, she converted the policy into galleons, which is rather fortunate." He looked up, meeting Harry's eyes, a grin on his face.

"At the time the British pound was enjoying a very good worldwide exchange rate, and the galleon was repressed. The violence from the war had served to drive our currency into a decline, due to economic distress. The policy which was valued at roughly three-hundred thousand pounds at the time, which was quite high, managed to purchase a very large amount of galleons. As the account has been untouched for well over twenty years, and invested annually at a steady five to eight percent growth, it has a current value of roughly six hundred twenty-seven thousand galleons." Hearing a sharp intake of breath, he looked up, to see a startled look on Nathan Granger's face.

"I know the number isn't that high, given the long term nature of the investment, but we were ordered to 'guarantee' there would be no decline in the principal. Thus, we had to be far more conservative in our investment strategies." Nathan Granger, just managed a choked sound, and nodded. That one account alone was worth over three million British pounds!

Clearing his throat, Dragonclaw took a sip of tea, and motioned for his assistant to fetch a new pot. With the numerous accounts, this was going to take a while.

"So", he continued, as his assistant went off to garner more tea, and some sandwiches, "That is the summation of your mother's parent's and your mother's account's. Now, on to your father's family's accounts. The Potters are an old, old family", he looked up, to ensure he had their full attention. "Preliminary accounting, suggested the account was at the sum I mentioned to you previously, and _monetarily_, that figure was proven correct. _However, _your family believed in diversification. It has been revealed that your family owned several business, several here in Diagon Alley, and shares in others scattered worldwide. For example, many, many years ago, did you know that your great-great grandfather started a small broom manufacturing company?"

Harry just cocked his head sideways a bit, curiosity overcoming the sadness of dealing with the knowledge of being the last of his family. "Really? What type of brooms?"

"Oh, just a little racing broom, called a 'Firebolt'!", smirked Dragonclaw.

"Firebolt!", Harry exclaimed, as the remembered feeling of soaring on his brought back good memories.

"Oh, yes! It seems your family had a fascination with going extremely fast on brooms. My sources tell me that it seems the trait might be hereditary, hmmm?" Harry grinned, the grimness of the discussion disappearing.

"Oh, dear!", was all Hermione said, visions of Harry heading to the factory to 'test' new models, leaving her stuck on the ground with her heart in her mouth as he performed his crazy aerial acrobatics.

Dragonclaw coughed, and continued. "Well, anyway, while most are not huge money makers, they are all relatively successful, and have been in business for many, many years. Rough projections indicate the sum total of the net profits are roughly one hundred to one hundred thirty-five thousand galleons, annually, or the equivalent of five to six hundred thousand British pounds. On an aside note, once it is made known that Harry Potter, Hogwarts school quidditch star, owns Firebolt, and perhaps makes a donation of some brooms to the Quidditch league, sales could increase dramatically."

He paused, letting everything sink in, meeting everyone's eyes. Finally, turning to Harry, he asked, "So, Mr. Potter, I'll sum up with the following. All told, you have an annual income of two-hundred thousand galleons, approximately. From the Evans, and Potter's. As the Blacks accounts have been frozen, there has been no income from their assets. There is simply the family account, your Godfather's account, his brother's, and the ownership of Grimmauld Place.

Your total gross worth is in excess of nine and a half million galleons. If you choose to, you can unlock some of your principal value, allowing a broadening of your investments. I feel quite confident that we can double or triple your income within the next six to twelve months."

Harry looked to Hermione, and then to Nathan and Emma on his right. Nathan cleared his throat, and offered, "It seems like, financially, you are in very good hands. I'd recommend continuing with their guidance." Dragonclaw beamed at this, and then frowned, as if remembering something. He opened one of the ledger's to the back, and withdrew a parchment. He knew what it contained, but was a little unsure how to continue. Humans could be touchy, sometimes, even with all his years of experience of dealing with them.

"There is, ah, one item that must be addressed", he stated, and paused to clear his throat. "Mr. Potter, are you aware of the necessity of the continuity of Noble Houses?" Dragonclaw paused, meeting Harry's eyes. When the young man shook his head, he continued.

"Well, as your family, the Potters, had a gift for things such as inherent Animagi transformation, transfiguration, and flying, were you aware that each Noble house has similar traits?" Harry and Hermione looked to each other, puzzled. None of their classes at school had covered any such things, and Hermione mentioned this.

"Ah, yes Miss Granger. As neither you nor Mr. Potter were raised in the magical world, the 'hereditary' traits would not have been made known to you. As most wizarding families pass these skills on either orally, by stories, or by old family journals, it's largely unknown what each wizarding family has as 'family skills', for lack of a better term. As a Potter, were you to examine books, journals, and perhaps even letters that may be contained in your family vault, you might learn of these, such as your ability to become an Animagi, since you have no living family members to teach them to you. And therein lies the crux of your problem, not with your House Potter, but rather with House Black."

Dragonclaw paused, and in a surprising display of emotion removed his glasses from his nose, and rubbed between his eyes as though trying to relieve a headache. Sitting back, he sighed, placing his glasses on his desk, forgotten for the moment. Steepling his fingers in front of him, he stared at both Harry and Hermione, fixing them both with his gaze.

"You two need to discover a way of teaching yourselves the Black family magic, in order for the formal passing of the mantle of House Black, and all of it's protective magic, to you", he indicated Harry. "The danger is this", he fixed the two with a very serious gaze, "it is, and has been, speculated by those associated with this establishment that the Black traits tend to be just that; _black_." The innuendo wasn't lost on the pair. Having stayed at Grimmauld place they were all too aware of the dark side of that family.

Hermione swallowed, nervously. "So, you mean, Harry might have to learn all this, and risk having it...'pervert him', changing him into something like...like..._Voldemort_!", she finished, whispering the last part, her gut clenching. As a witch, and burgeoning healer, she was aware of the genetic possibilities. Harry's mother had been very powerful, and so had his father. Yet, they'd led very normal lives, had families who loved them, and loving friends and colleagues. Harry had had little of that, and it didn't take a psychologist to hypothesize that given the right circumstances Harry could be very, very dangerous. She'd seen the fury he'd fallen into when she was injured, and if he had at his beck and call dark spells there was no telling what kind of havoc he could cause. Her parents had told her of the incident involving the diplomat, and that was just a small dose of his power. During his seventh year, he'd begun a mission to learn to focus and hone his skills to near lethality. Combine that with the specialized Auror training, add in a bunch of dark magic and spells, the likes of which no one had any inkling of what they might entail, and she feared for her fiancés soul.

Dragonclaw perched his glasses back on his nose, and nodded, soberly. "I, as well as all of my colleagues, are very much aware of your fears, Miss Granger. Tom Riddle", he refused to speak his ridiculous made-up name, "only climbed to his final ascension of power after years and years of work. Your fiancé is still growing in his power, and still learning." The unspoken danger was there, right in front of their faces.

"So, what if Harry chooses to forego this, decides the risk is too great?", Emma asked, almost afraid of the answer. She was sure Dragonclaw wouldn't have mentioned all of this if there wasn't a reason. If there was a danger, choosing Harry to accept this risk must be the better of the two options.

Dragonclaw turned to the elder Granger woman, and nodded at her astute observation. "The title of Lord Black must be held. It would mean that the eldest male blood relative would have to take up the mantle, regardless of their circumstances. Lucious Malfoy, being wedded to the only recognized Black family that is not considered insane, would be released, to assume the title. It would also grant him all the wealth accumulated by the Black family."

Harry groaned, and inside, Hermione shook. Lucious Malfoy was no idle follower of Voldemort. He was inheritantly cruel, as evidenced by his treatment of Dobby, his wife, and his own son. Nothing mattered to him except his own goals. The fact that he'd also knowingly given a horcrux to Ginny Weasley, a child, knowing full well what the power of that item could do to her was evidence of his lack of morality. They had no choice. Her fiancé, her love, and the man who had her heart had to take the risk, if for no other reason than to keep that power from the likes of a person like the senior Malfoy.

Harry's head was lowered, arms on his knees, fingers interlaced. Both Granger women were now resting their hands on his arms, supportive no matter his decision. Hermione only had to glance at him to know he was fortifying his inner resolve, as he had so many other times in the past. This time, though, he had a supportive, loving family, and the chance of a family in the near future. It seemed forever, until he raised his eyes, meeting the goblins. There was a steely glint in his brilliant green eyes, and the goblin knew that once again, no matter the personal risk, Harry Potter would rise to the challenge.

"Can the Goblin Nation assist me in this matter in any way, if I , WE, need it?", he asked quietly.

Dragonclaw looked up, and beckoned his assistant near. In his long fingered hand was a scroll which he passed to the elder goblin banker. He returned to the door, and hearing noise behind them, all turned to see what was causing it. The seemingly unremarkable creature was moving his hands in complicated patterns, and a visible grid work of spells began overlying the door, spreading out, finally encompassing the entire room, floors and ceiling included. The beauty of the spellwork was spectacular.

Once done, he turned to his 'superior', and indicated he could continue. Dragonclaw passed the document in his hand to Harry, indicating he should nick his finger, and put a drop of blood on the seal holding the document closed. He did so, and it unfurled on it's own.

"It is an offer from the Goblin King, in assistance in this matter, should you require it!", the goblin stated quietly. "There is no counter-offer required. Simply ask, and it will be given." As Harry's jaw dropped, he added, "Our King wishes none of the events in recent history to EVER be repeated. If it is in our power to help, we will." Goblins simply did not do something for nothing. Everyone knew that, yet here Harry had proof otherwise. "Simply add a drop of your blood at the bottom, and the document will seal itself, to be returned to Our King. When you leave here today, you will be issued an artifact of our design and crafting to enable you to contact Bloodclaw, my son, and one of our foremost practitioners of our arts, for assistance, anytime you require it." With surprise everyone turned to the quiet goblin standing by the door, to be offered a bow of service.

"I would have gladly offered assistance to Mr. Harry Potter, should our King had not even given his leave", he offered. Walking over, he bowed to Harry, and produced a small crystal, about ten centimeters long and two across, encapsulated on each end by finely wrought silver caps. "Speak into this, and it's twin", he showed him another like it in his hand, "will communicate your need to me. It will act as a focus so I might find my way to you, at any time. Simply ensure your flesh is touching one of the ends, so it will recognize your magical signature. Once activated, I can find and come to you anywhere on the planet." He bowed again, and returned to his position by the door.

The four turned to Dragonclaw, and thanked him, profusely.

He merely bowed, and offered they conclude their meeting by finishing signing the paperwork. A request from Hermione disclosed that there were muggle accounts that were made available to half-bloods, since most lived partly in both worlds. The goblins simply utilized typical monetary transfers to keep the accounts active. It was arranged that they'd start with an operational account of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, and access to the storage unit where the cars were. From there, they'd head out to check out the former manor of Lily's parents, since it had been altered to allow magic use.

"Were there no Potter residences?", Harry asked, as an afterthought. Dragonclaw hesitated, and then sighed. "Yes, but it is presumed demolished. Even our cursebreakers have been unable to find it. There is a chance though, without your blood, it might be cloaked, similar to Grimmauld."

"Are there no records of it?", Hermione asked, curious.

"Ownership in the wizarding world is different Miss Granger. Once a place is owned, it's owned. There are no property taxes, per se, for wizard owned lands. All money for your government comes from taxes built into purchases, similar to a sales tax. If there is a record of the property, it's buried in the Potter Vault, somewhere. Only Mr. Potter, or yourself now, can access it. Even goblins are forbidden from entering a vault unless the owner of said vault commits an act voiding the banking agreement."

Harry looked at Hermione, and wordlessly they agreed they'd had enough for the day. They decided to return to their original plans, and begin the process of getting ready for the wedding. Hermione and her parents waited in the bank foyer as Harry took another crazy cart ride to his vault. With a bag of galleons at his disposal, he saw some jewellery boxes lying nearby, and asked if they could be delivered to the Grangers. He promised that he wasn't going to put his valuables in any other institution, but merely wanted to peruse them to see if there were any items Hermione or her mother might like. Satisfied, the surly little creature agreed. "You'd think I was stealing money from his own piggy-bank!", Harry thought, but wisely refrained from saying it out loud.

Upstairs, he converted his funds to British pound notes, and was surprised how much he got in return. Pockets stuffed full of cash, he collected the Grangers, and they all made their way down the street, and exited to muggle London via the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry spotted an alley, and drew the three into it, and digging in his pockets began handing Hermione wads of cash. "Harry! How much money did you grab? We're only going out for the afternoon!", Emma Granger protested, until she was silenced by Hermione.

"Just take it Mum. He'll just sneak it into your purse when you aren't looking, anyway", she advised, reading her fiancés smirk correctly. They separated, and agreed to meet back at the house around dinner time. Promising his daughter that he'd make sure Harry chose wisely for his tuxedo, Nathan stepped out, and hailed a cab. Before he and Harry were out of sight, she grasped her mother's arm, and followed suit. The two separate couples spent the remainder of the day visiting a variety of shops, though the females did frequent far more than the men.

For their part, the first thing Nathan and Harry did was stop at a little pub Nathan remembered from his uni days. The pair found the beer, fish, and chips were as good as he'd recalled, and satisfied, made their way to some rather high-end men's shops. Harry was a little uncomfortable at first, until he caught the first glimpse of himself in a full-length mirror. Standing there looking back at him he was surprised at how different he looked, from his usual attire of dark jeans and heavy-soled boots. When it came to the accessories, he was a little unsure of color or style. At Nathan's suggestion, he merely told the tailor the name of the magazine Hermione had been looking in. At the man's approving nod, he began choosing ones he thought would compliment the designs featured in the recent editions. Finally, hitting on the right combination, they had to choose colour. Knowing that Hermione raved about his eye colour, he hesitantly asked for something that might match. As the golden brown of Hermione's eyes seemed to match, they finally selected a suitable shade.

Placing the order, and receiving a promise that it could be sent if he couldn't pick it up personally, they were given a delivery date within two weeks, after the final adjustments and tailoring were made. From there, they headed to a recommended shoe shop, and again, the proprietor offered several popular styles. As Harry thought the long toed popular styles weren't much to his liking, he opted for a more traditional shoe, that was also suitable for running if he had to. As he paid for the purchase, and accepted the bag, the memory of Moody's voice, and advice, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!", brought a small smile to his face. Nothing much else to do, and with still an hour to kill before they had to head home, the pair spotted a snooker hall, and spent the remainder of the time with Nathan trying to teach Harry the subtleties of the game.

Once done, they headed to a secluded area where Harry was able to apparate them to the Granger's back yard. Entering the house, they discovered the women had beaten them home by fifteen minutes, and were ensconced in the kitchen. An assortment of bags were scattered around, and when Harry went to peek in one Hermione smacked his hand. "No! That's a surprise!", she admonished, and had to smile at his mock pout. As they had take out being delivered, all four headed to the living room. Harry emptied his pockets of his cash, surprised at how much he still had left. Hermione had spent everything he'd handed her. When she told him this, he just simply pushed his over, and Nathan shook his head, chuckling.

"I think you might be creating a monster there, Harry!", he warned. Hermione, stuck her tongue out at him, and blew a raspberry in response.

"I'm just glad I can give her a comfortable life", Harry answered, smiling. "The money really doesn't mean that much, compared to what she's given me!" This earned Harry a kiss, and the couple had to break up at Emma's comment.

"Keep it up and Hermione will have to have that beautiful dress let out for a baby bump!" At that Harry grew so embarrassed he couldn't even look directly at his future mother-in-law. Nathan guffawed loudly at the look on his face, and went to fetch himself and Harry a drink, after asking the ladies if they wanted one as well.

Emma said, "Sure, a glass of wine would be nice. Hermione?"

Hermione abstained, and when Harry asked her about it, she grew red, saying, "I'd better not!" After ten years together Harry knew something was up, and reached over, taking her face in his hand, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes.

"Hermione?", he questioned, quietly. As Nathan came in, she looked aside at her father, then back at Harry. Taking his hands in hers, she stated simply, "I'm late!" She kept her eyes fixed on his, until understanding lit up his features.

"As in, _late_, late?", he whispered, eyes as round as they were when he first was told he was a wizard. She nodded, slowly, smiling as a grin began to appear on his face.

Unseen by the two, Emma was gripping her husbands arm so hard, he had to put the drinks down for fear of spilling them. Her eyes tearing, she met her husbands and saw there were tears in his as well.

"I was going to wait until later to tell you, to be absolutely sure, but I've never, ever, been late, and it's one of those things you instantly notice." She still hadn't taken her eyes off Harry's face, waiting for the denial, rage, anything. Instead, she was rewarded with a goofy grin that was spreading so wide it was almost comical.

"I am so glad we are not at the Burrow. Molly would kill us!", was all he said, before sweeping her into her arms, his lips meeting her in such a deep sensual kiss by the time he released her she was almost breathless, her entire body burning with desire.

"I believe that is how you two got this way, in the first place", Nathan said dryly. When Hermione turned to him to admonish him, she was swept into a hug by her father.

"You aren't upset, Dad?", she asked, as he released her.

Shaking his head, he explained, as her mother too, embraced her. "No Honey. We know you two are meant for each other, and today we were assurred Harry will always be able to look after you. Every parents worry is that when their children begin having children, they will be ready, and responsible, and able to support themselves. There's no worry of that with you two."

Finishing, he pulled Harry up into a quick embrace, and offered him his glass. As everyone toasted the news, Harry turned to Hermione, and suggested, "Perhaps we'd better do some announcements, and plan the wedding for, say, two weeks from now?" In answer Hermione cupped his face with her hand, and nodded, lovingly.

The next day, Harry got up early, and apparrated to Grimmauld place. On his return, he wore a rather bemused expression.

"What's up?", Hermione asked, sipping on her orange juice.

"The little buggers knew!", he snorted, grabbing a cup of coffee, and settled into place beside her, kissing her cheek.

"What! How!"

"The bond. They even doctored your wine the minute they knew. They took all the alcohol out of it, so you'd be safer. I thought all their giggling was because they were so taken with having a full family to serve, meaning us, as husband and wife. Come to find out they already started making baby clothes!"

Emma, was following this, and couldn't help herself and started laughing uproariously. Nathan, coming from the downstairs powder room was confused, but soon joined in as his wife, between gasps, explained it to him.

Hermione tried to be mad, but couldn't help herself and started chuckling. Harry rubbing her back lovingly was sending urges to her body that were hard to ignore, but they had lots to do. Pushing the hormones down, she turned to her mother. "Mum? Can you call and book the little church where you and Dad got married? I don't think we can wait for Hogwarts, and I think Molly might not be very cooperative, given my situation!", she gestured to her belly.

Emma nodded, and went to grab her notebook containing all her phone numbers. As she was calling the church, Hermione turned to her father. "Dad, did you grab a sample of the colour of Harry's accessories? Her dad smirked, and just pointed to Harry's eyes. She squealed, "I knew it!", and kissed her husband-to-be. "That's what I picked, so we're set! All we have to do is arrange flowers, and our best, man, and the maid of honour, and...", as she rattled on, Harry just smiled, knowing her as he did, the arrangements would be made by that evening.

After a quick discussion, Harry agreed to try and contact Ron, and Hermione decided after Ginny's support at her birthday party, she wanted the young witch to be her maid-of-honour. For Bridesmaids she decided to go simple, and ask Luna, with Harry deciding on Neville for a groomsman. Additional guests would be simply the group who gathered for her birthday, as, over the years, they were the group of people who'd stood by them and supported them, no matter the opposition. As an official announcement would be required, the only suitable person would have to be Luna's father. Everything decided, Harry and Hermione agreed the best way to contact everyone would have to be through the Weasley matriarch.

As they arrived at the Burrow, they were expecting a little resistance, but instead were swept up into Molly's arms, and crushed against her matronly bosom. As usual, she was literally reduced to tears, before she composed herself enough to start calling in the army: namely, the entire Weasley clan. In less than thirty minutes the house was full, with excited talk of the wedding being shouted about. Ron was the last to arrive, and he nervously approached Hermione, his arms half-down by his sides, as if ready to duck and run.

Instead, she greeted the lumbering red-head, assuring him that even though she was disappointed in his choice of lifestyle, _she_ was more than perfectly happy. At that, he ducked his head abashedly, as his mother smacked him. "See Ronald! It's not just your mother who's disappointed, but your friends as well. You need to find a nice girl and settle down!" She disappeared into the kitchen, still rambling on.

At Hermione's comment though, there were catcalls and whistles, that prompted her to cover her cheeks in embarrassment, and Harry's face was burning. Much to his chagrin, Ginny chose to walk by at that time and smack his bum, at which Hermione protested.

"Hey, that's all mine!", before clapping her hands over mouth, which prompted another round of laughter. Until Ginny asked why they were in such a rush to get married.

Hermione didn't know what to do or say, but Harry, bolder than he'd ever imagined he could be, took her into his arms, and kissed her. Turning to the red-head, to whom he'd once had feelings for and thought he might eventually marry, he quietly said, with a small smile, "It seemed the right thing to do!", he finished cryptically, his hand coming to rest on Hermione's lower tummy.

"NO WAY!", Ginny shrieked, and swept Hermione into a typical Weasley hug. "YOU'RE PREGNANT?", after which, typical Weasley mayhem ensued. Fleur, Ginny, Angelica, and Molly all converged on Hermione, while the men just smirked, especially Bill.

"Well, didn't waste any time, did you?", he joked, and laughed so hard at the look on Harry's face he had to sit down. Even Ron, who'd been hovering on the outskirts, on the chance Hermione was biding her time to hex him, stepped up and slapped Harry on the back, knocking the breath from him.

"It wasn't planned!", Harry protested, "It just kinda...happened!"

"That it does, my boy, that it does!", chortled Arthur, prompting a round of "EEEWWWW's"!, followed shortly by "DAAAD!"

As the crowd calmed down, Molly, rather than being overbearing, simply asked Hermione how she could help.

"Flowers, or maybe the food?", Hermione suggested. "I'm sure if you wanted some help, Harry wouldn't mind sending one of the house elves to help." She turned to Harry, meeting his eyes.

"What are you asking me for?", he smirked. "You're Miss Hermione, now. I'll bet if you just thought you wanted one here, they..." Harry didn't even finish the thought, as 'pop', Winky appeared.

"Miss Hermione wants Winky?", the little elf asked, looking around.

The room fell silent, and Ginny and George, the two most perceptive of the crowd asked in unison. "Ok. What just happened?"

All heads turned to Harry and Hermione, while Ron groaned, in the background. "Is nothing ever normal with you two?", he asked plaintively. Molly just shot him a look that said shut it, and she turned to the young couple, a questioning look on her face. Despite her overbearing ways, all knew her to be a formidable witch. That she chose to be a housewife didn't detract from her skills, nor perception, and raising the crew, especially Fred and George, she was able to pick up on things very quickly.

Looking between the two, a look of comprehension dawned on her face. "Are you two...bonded?", she asked wonderingly. Arthur came to stand by her side, and looked between his wife and the couple. The house was silent, but was broken by a tiny voice.

"Missy Hermione and Master Harry is being bonded. Is getting much, much stronger. Yes, yes! Winky is so, so happy!", the elf cheered, and chaos erupted. Startled, Winky dashed and hid behind Hermione, which just confirmed any doubts.

"Ok, I'm jealous!", came Ginny's voice from the background. Using her elbows, she shoved her taller brothers out of the way to face her former flame and best friend. "Do you two have any idea how special that is?", she asked, looking between the two.

Harry and Hermione just looked at each other, and simultaneously looked back at Ginny, shaking their heads in unison. Ginny shuddered, as it seemed as if they were mirroring each other's actions. The only other time she'd ever seen anything like that was with Fred and George, they way they'd always been able to speak for each other.

"Ok, that's a little creepy!", said Ron, shuddering.

"Oh, shut it, you lummox!", Ginny hurled at him. "You wouldn't know special if it bit you in the arse!"

"Ginny!", admonished Molly. As one, Harry and Hermione turned to her. How the pair moved together was uncanny. Tingles spread over Ginny's body at the thought of having that kind of closeness.

"Harry, Hermione", Molly started. "This is old, old, magic! Did you two do something?", she asked. Ignoring George's coughed 'make a baby!', under his breath, she fixed the two with her gaze. Again, they shook their heads in unison, and answered, "No!", at the same time.

"Ok. Knock it off or I'm breaking into Dad's whisky", muttered Ron.

"I think we'd all better sit down. Bill, Fleur, Molly. The rest of you scat!", ordered Arthur. At the cries of protest, for the first time Harry spoke alone.

"Mr. Weasley", he started, and the patriarch looked at him. "Everyone here has been involved in our lives in one way or another for years. Their support and help with this", he beckoned between himself and Hermione, "would be welcome!" Arthur struggled with the decision for a minute, then looked at Molly, who nodded. She knew her children, and they were going to find out eventually, anyway.

Everyone around the table, Arthur took charge, and explained what he knew to them. Not to anyone's surprise, Hermione ended up with Winky by her side, one tiny hand clinging to her skirt, as the elf listened in. She probably knew more than anyone, but lacked the understanding of human magic to properly explain it.

"Ok. To sum it up, it's a bonding of your magical cores. It can be done with spells, rituals, and the like, but those ways are very, very dangerous. It allows the bonded pair to draw on each other, and also support each other. For instance," he turned to Hermione, "I'd be willing to bet you have been performing wandless magic, without even realizing it." As her eyes widened, he nodded. "It simply means in areas you each were weak in, the other, if they're better at it, you 'borrow' their talent. It actually becomes part of you. The danger is if one of you gets sick." A grin lit his face. "Wait until the morning sickness hits Harry!", he chuckled. Harry's eyes widened, and he lowered his face into his hands, groaning.

"It's not all bad, dear", Molly consoled him, patting his shoulder. "You're going to be able to sense each others needs. It can lead to levels of closeness, and in...in...intimacy!", she finished in a rush, face reddening. Ginny, her gaze locked on Hermione's face, caught the reddening of her face.

"OH MY GOD! It's already happening! You lucky girl!", she squealed. At hearing this, Harry started banging his head on the table in embarrassment. Fleur, of all people, started rubbing his back, consolingly.

"Eet eez ok 'arry! Eez very ezspecial, yees? Like ze bond between za Veela und eet's Mate!" She was nodding, and at this revelation, it was Bill's turn to redden. Hermione, seeing the way Fleur was rubbing Harry's back fought down a wave of jealously.

As she'd noticed some more emotional feelings lately, she mentioned this to Fleur. Who, meeting her eyes, promptly removed her hand from where it was rubbing Harry's back. "Ve must talk, yes?", she offered, and Hermione nodded yes, breathing a sigh of relief. She'd thought she was just experiencing the beginnings of the hormonal upheaval with pregnancy, but maybe there was something more to this. The Veela might be able to offer more insight that might help them.

As everyone was settling down, Ginny shot Hermione a sulky look. "Why couldn't it be me?" Fleur shot her down immediately.

"Ze bond, eet choozes, not ze person. Ze closnezz, eet 'az been years building, no?" Everyone agreed. Since the days of the troll, Harry and Hermione had been inseparable. Thinking back, Ron was the first to voice what most hadn't noticed.

"Ya know", Ron started slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. As it was not a normal look for him, everyone shut up and paid attention. "This _has_ been going on for years." Hermione started to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping her. "No, hear me out! Everyone here knows how close you two were, even closer than Harry and me. I can't tell you how many times you two fell asleep on that couch downstairs in the Griffindor common room, and I'd find you two glued together. And you always seemed to be wanting to touch each other, ya know?" He looked around, to see he now had everyone's attention. "It's like there was always something drawing you two together" He ticked off things on his fingers. "Hand holding, kisses, hugs, Hermione always playing with your hair, mate!", he met Harry's eyes, to see a thoughtful look in them. Unconsciously, both he and Hermione nodded, together. "SEE! You've been doing that for ages, mate. The way you two always seemed to know what the other was thinking!"

Just then, a little voice piped up, forgotten. "Is as Mister Ronnie says. Is bonding. Takes long, long time with no magic. Just is supposed to be. Is meant to be", added Winky. At this, Hermione looked at Winky. On a whim, she leaned over looked her in the eyes, a thoughtful look on her face. Winky stared at her, nodded, and disappeared.

"That settles that, then!", said Ron, somewhat smugly.

Exhausted, Harry and Hermione flooed to Grimmauld, to be met by the elves. They sent a quick owl to her parents letting them know they'd had a full day, and just wanted to relax at home for the night. The next day being a work day, they didn't expect any protests. After dinner, they both retired to the den, where Harry stretched out, sideways, Hermione against his stomach, his arms wrapped around her.

"We need to make some changes, I think", Harry began.

"I was thinking the same thing!", answered Hermione, and in unison, they laughed softly.

"This is going to take some getting used to!", chuckled Harry. He manoeuvred Hermione around, struggling a bit as she didn't want to move from her comfy position. She pouted at him, and he laughed, brushing a thumb across her lips. "Don't do that! Or we'll never get any talking done!", he warned.

"Fine!", she answered, curling up on the other end of the loveseat, facing him.

Looking into her eyes, he weighed his words carefully, before beginning. "I don't think I want to be an Auror, any more", he started. Surprisingly, or maybe not, Hermione nodded.

"We have too much else on our plates right now, Harry. I think I want to continue my medical training, but at home. Being around some of those conditions isn't really safe if I am pregnant, you know."

Before she finished, Harry was nodding. The one thing this bond was doing was ensuring they were on the same page at the very least, he thought

"I think we should talk to our employers tomorrow, and tell them the bad news. It's time for _us_. With the Black thing, we're going to be busy. And with a newborn, if you're pregnant", he added, "we need to find a house, establish wards, move all our things there, get research materials, get the house connected to the floo network. We've got a list a mile long!" Looking at Hermione, he finished, "And there is no one else I'd rather by my side."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Here she was, Just twenty-one years old, possibly pregnant, with a ominous threat looming over her soon-to-be husband's head, and she couldn't be happier. It was promising to be an adventurous upcoming year.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry this took so long, but with the holidays, everything got befuddled.**

The next day was incredibly uncomfortable for both Harry and Hermione, yet left the pair both somewhat pleasantly surprised.

Kingsley took the news well, his dark countenance quite stoic, reminding Harry of his old Headmaster. "I understand quite well, Harry", he said, his deep voice resonating in the small office. "I'm actually surprised that after everything you actually considered entering the Auror program. I'd imagined you'd have had your fill of fighting." Harry internally breathed a sigh of relief.

"I just hope you're not disappointed, sir. I respect you, and this department, and what it stands for. It's just...!", as usual, Harry didn't have the words Hermione would have had, and tried his best to show how 'large' everything had gotten for him. In response the veteran Auror chuckled.

"Don't worry about it. In fact, it'll give the others a chance to step up and prove themselves. The way you've been driving yourself has actually started to make some of your classmates feel they weren't up to the task of being an Auror. More than once I've had to remind them that before you even entered the academy you'd fought Riddle more than any other person in history. Not to mention a troll, a three-headed dog, and who knows what else!"

"Well, I do want to actually finish the course, and get the completion certificate. I just think that Hermione and I have to find a different course for ourselves," Harry had finished, a little lamely. The two had talked a little more, before Kingsley's commitments had him shooing the younger man back to his studies.

At St. Mungo's, Hermione had requested a meeting with her superior, and passed on the news, adding in she thought she might be pregnant. A startled squeak had met her announcement of this, before she was immediately ushered into a VIP area of the hospital. A midwife was summoned, and several scans revealed that indeed, she was. As a junior healer, she would ordinarily be subjected to the more extreme cases, but everyone felt it would not be advisable for her to continue working.

Her duties were immediately suspended, indefinitely, and her file sealed, for privacy reasons. With her and Harry's fame, no one wanted to lose their jobs over this news leaking to the press. So, it was agreed that she could continue her studies at home, with weekly consultations via floo, should she have any questions.

Her bag loaded down with books, she was home by three in the afternoon, where she was set upon by Winky and Twinky. The two elves set about making her comfortable, pampering 'Missy Hermione', and left her in the library, tea tray at her side, fire lit, and a cozy blanket keeping her warm.

Harry arrived at home around six to find his wife rolling her eyes in mild exasperation as the two buzzed around her, ensuring that she was taken care of '...as a proper Missy should be!' Laughing at her expression, Harry kissed her on the lips, and flopped down in his chair in relief.

Since dinner preparations had to be finished, the two elves dashed off to the kitchen, leaving the two alone.

"So?", questioned Hermione, a little anxious.

"No problems. Just have to figure out where to go from here, is all." Harry went on to explain his and Kingsley's conversation. "We", he gestured between the two of them, "just have to decide which direction to take our lives in."

Having given this area a lot of thought over the last couple of hours, Hermione asked, "Do we really need to decide now? I mean, we have the wedding coming up, and the vaults to search for evidence of the Potter residence. Can't it wait?" Much to her relief, Harry was nodding in agreement.

"Though important, the first thing I think we have to accomplish is finalizing the wedding preparations, and also spend some time in my vault. 'Our' vault!", he corrected, with a grin.

Dinner was served, with them deciding to eat in the den, forgoing the necessity of moving from the comfort of the cozy room. In the time since his graduation from Hogwarts Harry had literally transformed the dingy old house into something that would have easily been pictured in a magazine. Hermione had helped with the furniture and decoration choices, and so the two actually felt comfortable, rather than creeped out.

Over casual talk, it was decided to see if anyone would be interested in renting the house if they managed to actually find another home that might be better suited to raising a family. Grimmauld was big enough, but lacked the outdoor space they both felt would be better for a child to play. Tomorrow, Hermione would head to Gringott's, and start perusing the vaults for a more detailed inventory of it's contents. Having an item listed as a 'book', didn't really tell them much of anything.

Later that night, with the warmth of the fire in the master bedroom basking over their sweaty skin, the two felt their lives were finally headed in the direction they both had wanted for so long. Entwined in each other's arms, they fell asleep, exhaustion from making love again draining them completely of energy.

The week fell into a different routine, with Hermione rising first, heading to the bathroom off the master bedroom, while Harry rose a few minutes later, and staggered down the hall to the next nearest loo. As Harry was much faster in the washroom, he was usually downstairs drinking a coffee before his love joined him. Each morning like clockwork Hermione stole Harry's coffee, having cooled more to her liking, leaving one of the elves to fetch him a new cup. The first morning he'd held on until she rewarded him a kiss in return before relinquishing it, and it was now a bit of a game between them.

After breakfast, they chatted for a bit, before he headed off to training, while Hermione apparrated around finalizing the wedding preparations and other errands. Most days would see her at the bank at opening, where she'd spend a couple of hours detailing the exact nature of the books she found, papers, and other objects found to contain magical traces. They'd decided between them that once everything was separated and catalogued to their liking, the goblins would take each enchanted object and run a series of tests to determine it's use. Hermione could have done the task as well, but over centuries of working with cursed objects and other magical items the creatures had developed means much faster than casting spell after spell. What they were after, really, were the books, any grimoires, or documents and clues leading them to the mysterious Potter residence.

On this went until the week before the wedding, when Hermione finally felt they were getting somewhere. She'd found some old books that simply refused to open, and her goblin assistant determined they probably needed blood to open; specifically Harry's. "It was the norm, back then, to assure none but family could access family secrets", his gravelly voice had informed her. Putting them inside her expanded handbag, she lugged home yet another trove of literature for their search. With their wedding in five days, they were fast running out of time.

At home that evening Harry agreed they'd tackle the books after supper, with the help of the elves in case there were any enchantments they couldn't handle. Harry would open the book, while Winky stood by in case he had to be taken to St. Mungo's. Hermione didn't want to risk the baby, and so would wait until the all clear to enter. Once dinner was done, with a wave, Winky and Harry disappeared into the library. Harry cast some containment wards, and sat down to examine the first of the two books.

On it's front was a raised 'P', with the family credo embossed in the cracked leather on the bottom. The clasp holding the book shut appeared to have no lock, but a small hole in the center of a depression, large enough for a thumb. Glancing at the elf who was standing there, hands clasped in front of her, she could barely contain her excitement and nervousness, dancing from foot to foot. With a shrug, he took a breath, and placed his left thumb in the hold, grasping his wand in his right. All he felt was a slight prick, then a glow began surrounding him spreading out from the book itself. With an "Aha!" on his lips, he crumpled over as blackness overtook him.

Outside the room anxiously waiting, Hermione heard a startled squeak, and she charged in to find the little elf in tears, with no Harry in sight.

Dark! It was so dark, Harry thought, before the throbbing behind his eyes made him realize he now had a pounding migraine. With a groan he felt around, realizing he was laying on a cold, damp surface, rough to the touch. His fumbling fingers found a small crevasse, and following it realized it was in an approximate square. "Flagstone! Must be a basement, or dungeon!" Groaning, he shoved himself upright, which apparently wasn't such a good idea as nausea hit, and he promply vomited up his entire supper. Heaving, he knelt there, panting, spitting the last remains of the bile from his mouth.

Slowly raising his head, he cracked his eyes open, to find he wasn't totally blind. In a large circle around him was a faintly glowing circle, presumably a ward of some sort. As the pounding behind his eyes slowly subsided, he found his eyes growing accustomed to the darkness, and began to make out faint shapes. "Ugghhh!", he grunted, climbing slowly to his feet.

Squinting, he realized he was in a cellar of sorts, as the shapes of support pillars met his searching gaze. Realizing he could only smell his own sickness, he grimaced, and banished the mess silently, as his senses probed the darkness. Stepping forward slowly he edged to the circle, and slowly pushed his left hand forward. Feeling only a slight tingle, he took a breath, and stepped across the barrier, his footsteps making barely a sound. Mentally casting "lumos!", he breathed a sigh of relief, finding no one waiting for him. Turning slowly, Harry took stock of his surroundings, noticing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Winky?", he called, hesitantly. A 'pop' alerted him to her arrival, and he was startled when a wailing elf threw herself on his leg, clinging for dear life.

"Master Harry!", she screamed, her eyes streaming tears. "We's thinking you is dead!", she bawled. It took Harry several minutes to calm her down, before he could get her to understand that she should go and get Hermione. Still snuffling, she nodded, and disappeared. Less than five minutes later she reappeared with Hermione in tow.

With a scream of relief Hermione threw herself on Harry, crying as much as the little elf had. Holding her close, Harry held her tightly, knowing how she must have felt. When her crying had finally abated, he was rewarded with a scream, "Don't you ever do that again!", as she pounded on his chest. "I thought I'd lost you!" Realizing how it must have appeared, his own eyes misted over, and had to choke back his own tears. It was some time before they each regained their composure, and began looking around.

"Where are we?", snuffled Hermione, curiousity finally becoming greater than her fear.

Stepping back from his fiance, Harry took her hand in his left, wand at the ready. "I'm not sure, but I'll bet that the book was a blood activated port-key, tuned specifically to me."

Carefully, they begain to explore before finding a stairwell leading upwards. Each with blasting and shield spells fixed in their minds, they began climbing the stairs, the elf on their heels. Reaching the top of the stairs, they slowly pushed open a wide wooden door, to find a surprise neither had expected.

"What the...?", breathed Hermione, wonderment in her voice.

They'd stepped out into a kitchen that had to be large enough to service a household of at least fifty people. Vast cooking ranges were sparkling, looking as if scrubbed yesterday, with broad preparation areas surrounded by walking platforms suitable for beings of elvish height. Pots and pans hung from overhead racks, with assortments of cooking utensils near to hand. They had barely time to take this in, before a sight they'd never expected coughed, drawing their attention.

Their eyes travelled down, meeting the somewhat nervous gaze of an elderly elf, clad in a black tunic. "Hello? Master Potter?", he asked, his ears twitching anxiously.

"Uh, yeah?", Harry offered, equally hesitant. The little creature shuffled closer, and bowed.

"I is Winkin! Head elf of House Potter", he started, before a miniature volcano erupted.

"Is not!", yelled Winky, storming around Harry and Hermione, shocking the two and the elder elf. "Twinky is first elf bonded to Master Harry, and Winky is second. You is not HEAD elf!", she shouted, poking him in the chest. The sight was so comical Harry felt Hermione began to shake, trying to contain her laughter. Winkin, for all his attempt at dignity, was smashed at her yell, and further ground into the dust as she continued poking him with her long finger.

"You is not Master Harry's first elf. You is standing in line!", she continued ranting, stamping her little feet. At his chargined look Winky seemed satisfied her point was made, and returned to Hermione's side, clutching her robe in her hand. Harry could swear he heard her teeth grinding! House elf heirarchy was something he'd never really understood, but apparently there definitely was one.

Winkin stood there ashamedly, his ears drooping in sadness, and sensing he was about to burst into tears, Harry crouched, offering his hand. "Hey! Stop, it's okay. I'm here, but, ah, could you tell me exactly where 'here', is?"

Having an order to obey seemed to cheer him up, and standing proudly he informed them, "You is at Potter Manor!", as if that explained everything. He looked between Harry and Hermione, all the while keeping a nervous eye on the tempermental Winky.

Sensing they needed to be a little more specific, Hermione stepped forward and asked. "Winkin?", he turned his head, meeting her eyes. "Are we still in Britain?"

"Oh yes Missy! Potter Manor is in Britain. Is in England, near border of Wales!", he nodded, beaming. "Is Master and Missy wanting to see Manor?" Seeing their eyes light up, he clapped his hands in glee and beckoned for everyone to follow.

He led the way to the end of the kitchen, and with a wave opened a door. A massive dining room met their eyes, a grand archway showing either an entrance or ballroom beyond. Neither Harry or Hermione had expected this, and their hanging jaws and widened eyes showed their amazement. Keeping up a running commentary, Winkin led them from one room to the next. "And this is Grand Ballroom, and this is sitting room, and this is library...", by this time they were almost trotting, as in his excitement the elf scurried from room to room. After six bathrooms, twelve bedrooms, two upstairs sitting rooms, two downstairs sitting rooms, Harry and Hermione were becoming overwhelmed. Each room was beautifully decorated, with ornate finishings of walnut or oak, decadent furnishings, gleaming candelabra on the walls and massive chandeliers hanging resplendently in the centres of each room. Awestruck, they had no words to describe what had to be one of the most beautiful places they had ever seen. Finally regaining a little of their composure, the couple turned to Winkin, hands intertwined.

"How did I get here, Winkin", asked Harry, regaining his voice.

"Master Harry found blood-key? Looks like old book?", his hands showed an approximate size. At their nod, he continued. "Is only way to take control of wards. As you is new, is bringing you here, to take over wards." His beaming smiled faded, as he saw their growing confusion. "Is not wanting to take over wards?", he asked, ears drooping.

Sensing they were about to be subjected to another bawling fit, Hermione crouched, smiling to try and reassure the elf. "It's not that Winkin. It's just that no Potter has been here in a long, long time, have they?" As he slowly shook his head, she continued. "Master, er Harry", she blushed, correcting her mistake, "had no idea where or if the house existed. He is the last Potter." At this news Winkin hung his head, his features drooping in sadness.

"Winkin is knowing Missy Hermione", he informed them, looking at her sadly. "Is over seventy years since we is seeing a Master Potter."

"We?", Hermione and Harry exclaimed in unison. "What we?", she demanded.

Winkin looked confused, and glanced between the two. "Is...is...us. Manor's house elves! We is bonded to Potter bloodline, but is not being allowed to leave Missy Hermione! We is growing food, and cleaning, and just...waiting." It sounded so sad Hermione had to keep from sobbing at the expression on his face. "We is needing Master to allow us to leave Missy Hermione. Is told, stay here, is big trouble...so we stays! Is keeping house nice for Master!"

Having heard enough, Harry sank down on the floor, careless at the squawk of distress from the elves. A 'snap' and chairs appeared for the Master and Missy to sit, which they gratefully took. Harry looked to Hermione, and with a motion he beckoned for her to keep questioning Winkin. After a series of questions they realized it was during the rise of Grindewald that the Potter's had secured the household, preferring to maintain the property at Godric's hollow, being closer to London. After that, Harry's great-grandfather had been killed mysteriously, and had been the last of the family to step foot in the Manor.

"Are the wards still here?", Hermione questioned, shocked at the story. Winkin nodded assent.

"Yes Missy Hermione. Is blood ward. As long as Potter alive, ward is too!" Neither had heard of this, and it bore much further looking into. With assurances they could now both simply apparrate back into the building, they left, after Harry had told Winkin that none of the elves were bound to stay in the Manor anymore. He took some galleons from his pocket, at which Winkin just smiled. "Is not needing money Master Potter. Is some here still. Nows we can go to village to buy's things!" Scared that the world had changed too much for the elderly elf, he told Winky to stay and ensure they were reintroduced back to the modern world. Taking Hermione's hand they both headed home to Grimmauld.

Luckily, through the bond Twinky knew they were both fine, and on their arrival hurried to bring them both tea, as they both felt.a little shaken up at the astonishment of the revelation. Not only were they both wealthy, thanks to the Potter and Black family inheritances, but possed a home in Grimmauld Place, another two that were bringing in a good annual sum as a source of income, and a massive country home that could house themselves and all their friends comfortably, and still leave room for entertainment. They hadn't asked about the property, but sensed they were in for another shock when they had the time to view it.

After being fortified with tea, for Hermione, as Harry had switched to something harder after the first cup, they sat simply staring at each other in wonderment.

"So, uh, millionaire, with three homes and a mansion!", Hermione attempted, a small smile starting to form. "Good thing Ginny didn't know about that, huh?" Unable to contain herself any longer she started laughing, Harry's expression of mortification at the 'what could' have happened entered his mind.

Groaning in mock anguish, Harry added to her mirth. "Can you imagine what the girls in school would have done to me? I'd have been molested!", he bemoaned.

"I don't think so Mister!", growled Hermione, dropping herself onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Even if we weren't together, there was no way you were ever in any danger of that!" At Harry's look of confusion, she had the grace to blush.

Sensing he was onto something, "Hermione?", asked Harry, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

Trying to outstare him, Hermione felt her desire rising. "Damn him and his georgeous green eyes!", she cursed herself. Harry's stare was unrelenting and she felt her willpower crumbling.

Lowering her face, she reddened, as she stumbled over her words. "I, um, might, ah, have, um, suggested, that maybe, quite possibly, um, thatifanyonetouchedyouI'dkillthem!", she rushed out the last bit. Ashamed to show him this jealous side of her, she kept her face lowered, tears in her eyes, and was shocked as she felt his chest shake. Looking up she was met by his wide grin, brilliant twinkle in his eye.

"I knew it!", he exclaimed. "I thought it was you! It's when I first started noticing you hugging me more, and always wanting to hold my hand!" Hermione, frustrated at being found out and almost humiliated, smacked him.

"Oh...you!", she burst out, and was silenced by being brought forward by his strong hands, meeting his lips in a passionate kiss. Several minutes later they broke apart, breathless, foreheads resting together.

"I know, my love, I know", Harry whispered. "It's why I never even thought of another woman than you. It was the first sign I knew you were feeling the same things I was." At her sob of relief, his answer was to scoop her up in his arms, carrying her to their bedroom.

No more thought was given to the mansion, work, the wedding. Nothing mattered then other than their love for each other, and they spent the remainder of the night proving it to each other. Finally, at two am, they fell asleep, exhausted, entangled in each other.


End file.
